


Between the Stars: A Beneath the Stars Sequel

by illyriantremors



Series: Beneath the Stars: A Duology [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOTAR - Freeform, Depression, F/M, Modern AU, Romance, Suicide, The College Years, sequel fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-05-16 18:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 104,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14816667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyriantremors/pseuds/illyriantremors
Summary: Sequel to previous multi-chapter fic Beneath the Stars. This fic follows the aftermath of Feyre's senior year of high school as she and the inner circle navigate their different forays into the adult world, be it via work, college, or otherwise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a SEQUEL! While I suppose it could be read as a standalone, it contains massive spoilers for a previous fic I've written called Beneath the Stars. If you wish to avoid spoilers for that fic, please do NOT read this one. You can find said fic as Part 1 of this fic in the collection or under my Works page.
> 
> Personal note: Many of you who have been following me for some time now have noticed that I've fallen into a lot of mental health issues as well as a huge falling out with this series/SJM. In short, I'm still in the same boat and to an extent issues have gotten worse. I have decided I no longer wish to write fic, but I think it will bother me forever if I leave this fic unfinished in my drafts when I have such huge chunks of it written. So I'm hoping to complete it in the coming months as a pick-me-up and to finally put this fandom in my heart to rest.
> 
> Please be patient with me if my updates are slow. Writing is really hard for me right now and as I'm sure you'll see in this chapter - I am rusty AF at writing these characters. I'm sorry if this fic doesn't turn out to be up to scratch, but I hope you're able to enjoy it all the same. Thanks for sticking with me this far. <3

Every time I look up at the stars, I wonder if they make sounds.

“Excuse me,” a deep, distinctly male voice booms over us. “May I have everyone’s attention please?”

The pleasant chime of clinking glasses uniting everyone in attention is the closest answer to my pondering I’ve found thus far.

Several feet from where I stand in the crowd, the largest marine I’ve ever personally seen stands on the backyard deck raising a glass of freshly popped champagne. My own glass is filled with Diet Coke since Cassian’s dad is as strict about underage drinking and rule breaking as his illustrious military career would suggest.

Sometimes I forget Cassian’s just a kid graduating high school. He’s always seemed so looming to me since the moment I met him, in both personality and his hulking frame. But standing up on the deck next to his dad, who is still just a hair taller and beefier despite the age difference with his son, Cassian looks like just a kid to me. Maybe for the first time ever.

But his back is straighter than I’ve ever seen it. And for once, the cheeky grin he keeps forever in the pockets of his mouth is gone. His father clears his throat and the crowd settles. Cassian is as calm as they come.

“When I enlisted 35 years ago and joined the United States Marine Corps,” he begins, “I thought that was the proudest day of my life. Little did I know I was getting married a year later.” Polite laughter breaks out across the room. “My wife and I have been through a hell of a lot over the years. We’ve survived a military life that took us around the world to places that were wonderful and others not so much. We’ve had five children who have given us many blessings and many challenges. There have been years of plenty and many,  _ many _ years of hardship. And we have survived it all together.”

At this point, Cassian’s mom doesn’t even need her husband to pick up her hand and kiss the back of it (which he does) to start crying. Murmurs around me suggest she isn’t alone.

“I know now that retiring here with you all today - my friends, my family, my brothers and sisters at arms - means that the day I enlisted, I was wrong. That was not in fact the proudest day of my life. Today is. But it’s not because I am setting aside a career that has given me so much.” Cassian’s mom steps aside as his dad moves over toward him and claps him on the shoulder while gripping Cassian’s hand in what is clearly a tight embrace. “Son, you were my first born. My first true love in this world for both your mother and I. The first to follow in my footsteps - even if it is the  _ army _ .” More laughter, but Cassian’s focus is razor sharp on his dad. The connection forces a churning in my stomach I’m not quite sure what to do with.

“And now you are my proudest day. Because I know the future this day will give you when you ship out. I am... so proud of you.”

The rest of the speech, if there even is one, was a bit of a blur. All I could see was Cassian and his dad, both of them trying to hold it together while they had this heartfelt moment in front of what felt like the whole world.

The whole world - and Rhys.

Who had gotten caught across the crowd at the buffet table where the world’s largest cake ever sat. And naturally, he’d been making faces at me the entire speech, including one very suggestive air blown kiss that was more tongue than it was lips.

I sighed. And could practically feel Rhys from across the room chuckling down my neck before winking and taking a sip from his own drink as Cass’s dad finished off the toast. Inappropriate? Absolutely. But my body relaxed all the same.

_ It’s just a speech _ , I reminded myself, not a lecture directed at my own complicated family melodramas.  _ Be happy for your friend _ .

_ Your friend who’s leaving- _

_ Stop it, Feyre. Focus on Rhys - Rhys and his damned tongue skimming the rim of that glass... _

“What you see in him, I’ll never understand.”

“You’re cousins,” I said, swallowing the soda and enjoying the burn of it down my throat as it went to wash away the pang lingering in my stomach. “I don’t think you’re supposed to understand the attraction.”

On my right, Mor scoffed before leaning forward past me and making a much ruder gesture toward Rhys, which he replied to in kind enthusiastically.

“You two are impossible,” I said, going in for another sip. But neither my best friend nor my boyfriend stopped the charade. I glanced to the casual, dark frame across from Mor. “You can help with this anytime, you know.”

Azriel, Mor’s boyfriend with whom she was moving in with in a month for school up north, betrayed nothing of his attitude as he cooly handed me his glass and strode in front of Mor, slid his hands over her face, and consumed the tongue she’d been sticking out at Rhys with his mouth until they were enveloped in a deep, long kiss. My lips parted in awe that he’d so readily taken me up on the request - in public, no less. But then again he’d changed a lot since I’d met him. Any thought of pestering her cousin appeared instantly forgotten from Mor’s mind as she grabbed a tight fistful of Az’s hair.

“Yep, well...” I started, nodding my head with pursed lips. But they didn’t stop kissing. “Okay, I’m just gonna go over and um... yeah whatever.”

I left, but not fast enough to avoid hearing the kiss break and Mor whisper, “ _ Az” _ with a hushed giggle. I supposed I should have been grateful to hear it. In another month, I’d have to wait patiently for holidays and vacations to see my friends make a spectacle of themselves wherever they went.

The cake at the buffet table really was a spectacle in and of itself that could have given anyone, even Mor and Az, a run for their money. Four tiers and covered in perfect replicas of every medal, badge, and emblem Cassian’s dad had ever worn I guessed. I didn’t want to know how many people it would feed, let alone how much it must have costed when I compared it to the cakes mom had ordered every year for Elain and her huge birthday parties.

“So,” a smooth, familiar voice from behind me said, curling up to my ear. “On a scale of one to ten, how horribly did Cass’s dad bother you with his speech?”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically, trying to play it off casually with a stiff shrug, but Rhys wasn’t having it. He turned me around, away from the glorious cake the catering staff was starting to cut, and had to lean down into his heels slightly to look me straight in the eye.

“You promised me you would tell me if something started to bother you, in case it, you know, made you start feeling certain things again.”

“I know,” I said and shrugged my way out of his arms so I could take a plate of cake from the caterer. “And nothing is bothering me, which is why I said I was fine.”

“Feyre-”

“A five, alright?”

“Ah.”

His eyes betrayed nothing, neither worry nor indifference.

When I started therapy midway through my final semester, one of the things my therapist suggested we try was to come up with a system for telling people I could trust how I was feeling without it having to be a huge ordeal since opening up to people was something I struggled with most. Rhys was naturally all over the idea and thus, the scale system was born. Only he and Mor know about it, but I’d begun considering telling Nesta and Elain since we’re moving in together soon.

“It’s not like it’s in the danger zone,” I offered.

Rhys took a slice of chocolate to match my own and followed me away from the table. Mor and Az were now dancing in the crowd, having abandoned their lip festival, and Cassian looked halfway en route to join them. It was a shame Nesta wouldn’t come tonight, but now that I was here having to face the inevitable farewells, I understood why she’d avoided it.

“No,” Rhys said between bites, “but it is only fifty percent.”

“Hmm.”

“You wanna talk about it?” I shoved a huge forkful of cake with a mound of cherry filling into my mouth. Rhys chuckled silently. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Maybe later,” I admitted, when I’d managed to finish chewing. Rhys nodded, understanding. The best thing about being with him really. Instant acceptance. Instant okay. No fights or told-you-so’s or do this instead. Just… okay. “Let’s just dance, yeah?”

Rhys raised a brow. “With the cake?”

“Oh-ho yeah - with the cake. Better finish yours now or you know Mor will take it.”

Rhys looked down at his plate and frowned. “Shit.” I laughed, already a few steps away heading into the crowd, and sure enough Mor’s eyes lit up when she saw us and bobbed her way to the beat in our direction. I held up my fork and Mor excitedly opened her mouth.

“Give me!” she yelled over the music, but it was Rhys’s plate she stole.

“I’m definitely not going to miss you stealing all my food every day when I leave,” Rhys yelled back.

“Yes you are,” Cassian replied.

“Damn straight he is!” Mor agreed. “After all, what’s a president without his dutiful cabinet?”

She took another bite of cake and spun wildly into Azriel’s waiting arms, cackling as she went. Even Rhys had to laugh at that. “Here,” I said, shoving my slice, plate and all, on top of Mor’s so I could slink into Rhys. “You two enjoy. I just wanna dance.”

“Deal,” he said, his head ducking down to mine, his hands and eyes warm.

And so, for the last time, the five of us danced into the night.

* * *

 

The car ride back to Rhys’s was particularly quiet. Cassian stayed behind with Azriel to wait for Rhys to drop Mor and I off since the three boys were staying the last night together and Rhys was flying out with Cassian in the morning anyway. Though their final destinations were different, the flight to their layover they’d take together.

Rhys pulled into the driveway and instantly, the light in the living room clicked on. And suddenly, that pang in my stomach from earlier was back.

“I’ll tell him to give it a few minutes,” Mor said from the back seat. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over the center console of the car to plant a fat kiss on Rhys’s cheek. If she hadn’t smeared most of her lipstick on Azriel already, Rhys’s cheek would have been bright red. “Knock ‘em dead for me, cuz.”

“Mor, I-”

“And you had better reply to my snaps!”

“Snapchat is-”

“Just texting on crack - I know. And I don’t care. Snap me back or I will fly out to NYU to kick your ass in person so I can Snapchat the photos to everyone.”

“Mor-”

“I mean it, Rhys!”

“I know, but Mor-”

“What?!”

Rhys shared a soft, kind smile with his cousin, the kind that said a million private jokes, a million sleepovers as kids, and a million moments together as cousins that I probably would never understand just sitting in the car observing their intimacy. How casual they made it seem. The pang in my stomach both softened and hardened at the same time.

“I love you,” Rhys said finally and bopped Mor on the nose. She wrapped her arms around him and the hug lasted almost as long as they’d grown up knowing each other.

“I love you too, cousin,” Mor replied, her voice no longer flying at a million miles per hour. “See you inside, Feyre.”

Mor popped out of the car and was not halfway up the walkway before the front door was opening and she was holding up an explanatory hand to Rhys’s dad that I was eternally grateful for. The longer we held off going inside for Rhys to grab his bags and say goodbye, the better.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

Looking back to Rhys in the seat next to me, his eyes twinkled, which somehow made the moment even worse. “Five,” I said. He took my hand.

“Come on.”

Rhys’s neighborhood was quiet at night, the way mine always had been growing up. As a kid, I thought it was because rich people were boring. But since the last year of school when I finally found pieces of myself I hadn’t seen before, I discovered it was only because everyone rich and poor alike are trying to see the stars. We just have different ways of doing it. And tonight the stars were brilliant and full of hope, not a cloud in the sky. The quiet surrounding them was oddly peaceful.

“Can I ask you what’s going on inside that smart little head of yours or are we going to spend the last few minutes together getting cited for public fornication?”

And just like that, the little pangs I’d been fighting all night started once more to recede because being with Rhys - it was just that easy.

“I’m fine.”

“You keep saying that. It’s alright not to be, you know.”

“I know, I just...”

“Five?”

I inhaled a deep breath meant to be followed with words that explained everything in some nice, neat synopsis so Rhys could nod and we could go home happy, but nothing came out and I bit my lip instead. My eyes started to sting.

“Hey,” he said, stopping mid stride and tugging on the hand he held so gingerly. He gave it a slight squeeze. “Feyre - hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to talk about it, though I hope you’ll tell someone. You and Mor will have all night, you know she’ll do it.”

I shook my head, letting him stand in front of me so I could brace myself on his chest. “And in another month, Mor won’t be there anymore either.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about then? Everyone leaving?”

I looked up, my chin perched against him, and refused to let the tears fall. “I’m just sad to say goodbye, that’s all. I finally found people I could trust and now-”

“We’re leaving.”

I nodded. “While I stay here.”

“I told you I would stay if you wanted me to. I don’t have to go back east for school. My dad can adopt a new son to be his company lawyer for all I care if it means-”

“No!” I stepped back, my heart thundering in my chest that we were about to have this disagreement again. We’d been having it all summer since graduation. Since Rhys had gotten his acceptance to one of the best law programs in the country and his dad had casually suggested he accept with a new set of car keys in one hand and a fat tuition check in the other.

“I told you, you can’t stay like that. I can’t be your excuse for doing what you want when your dad tells you otherwise.” I watched Rhys’s chest deflate somewhat. Maybe… maybe he had his own stomach pangs going on. But selfishly, I pressed on. “You have do decide you want to be here on your own, just like you told me, remember?”

Rhys took the opportunity to stare at our hands between us and run small circles over my palm before answering. “You’re sure you’ll be okay? I just don’t want you to feel alone again. I know it’s hard for you, but Feyre - you’re not alone.  _ Never alone _ . You know that now, right?”

I sighed. “It is hard, but I’ll be fine.”

“I want more than fine,” he said, shaking me a little for the emphasis. “And you do too.”

A part of me - some awful, twisted part of me that sprang to life at the thought of hope and change - protested that his words were inherently wrong. But as much as I couldn’t deny that personal truth to Rhys’s face because of my own stubborn pride, I had to offer him something.

“Maybe fine is all there is for now?” Rhys’s brow quirked. “Maybe fine has to come first before good or even great, and if it does, then fine is enough for me. One step at a time.” This time, I shook his hands and leaned further into him. “New York may be on the other side of the country, but it’s still only a plane ride away, same as everything.”

“Look at you,” Rhys said, repressing a smirk. “You didn’t even need my help. You’ve... sorted your own solution out.”

It took a second for his words to sink in, but when they did, my heart swelled with a small amount of pride for the confidence I’d been working on building for the past seven months. Hours and hours of therapy, letting go of being my dad’s caretaker, getting ready to move out on my own for the first time (even if it was with my sisters), it was all coming to a head. And it would work. I would be better. I  _ had _ to. “I  _ am _ pretty amazing like that,” I said without holding back.

Rhys snorted. “And spending too much time with Mor. Maybe I shouldn’t leave you alone with her for a month or I might come home to find my cousin has an accomplice to help her kick my ass.”

“Nah, Mor doesn’t need my help doing that.” I pinched his waist, same as I had once a long time ago when he’d helped me move and I’d started to wonder about this boy. I grinned and teased, “You’re easy pickings.”

A small giggle followed by a gasp was all I was allowed to let loose before Rhys’s return tickle descended into a searing, sweet kiss at my mouth that burned as brightly and wonderfully as the stars above us. The last kiss, I felt it in my heart. So I released his hands before any more sadness could set in and wrapped my arms around his neck, and felt Rhys welcome me with his own embrace. His touch scattered down my back in a shower of stars and wind until we were so wrapped up my skin no longer shivered, but was pleasantly warm pressed up against him as our lips worked feverishly against one another.

The kiss couldn’t go on forever, even if it felt like it could. But just the taste of him on my tongue, my lips, my cheeks... and it was enough to reassure me Rhys would always be there no matter how many art galleries and school semesters and states separated us.

“I am very glad I met you, Feyre,” Rhys said, leaning his brow on mine when finally we pulled apart. “And I will come back to you the second you need me to.”

“The second you  _ want _ to, you mean,” I corrected and he chuckled. “Promise?”

His pinky found mine as though we were still little kids in elementary school who knew nothing and everything of the world at once. “I promise,” he whispered.

And there on that starry night, our last together, I believed him.

In the morning when I woke up next to a sleeping Mor who was tightly clutching the stuffed animal bat Az had won her at the grad night fair, I rolled over and reached blindly for my phone, squinting against the sunlight. It was so early, the light wasn’t too intense yet, but I wanted to tell Rhys I missed him all the same before his flight took off for Chicago where he and Cass would part ways for none of us knew how long.

But when I unlocked my phone, there was already a text waiting for me and looking at the time stamp on it, he’d sent it just after I’d fallen asleep.

_ I miss you, too. _

I closed my eyes, my heart feeling more at rest than it had all week, and sent a quick reply:

_ Thanks for stealing my line, prick. Have a safe flight. _

Almost immediately, his reply came back:

_ <3 _

And all I could think as I fell back asleep, ghosting a touch over the sapphire ring on my finger, was what a long time it would be until Christmas break.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month after Rhys's departure for school, Feyre finds herself coping without her friends around her for the first time. Her manager at the art gallery, Alis, catches her off guard at the end of her shift with what sounds like potentially upsetting news for Feyre's future at the company. Amidst chatting with Rhys on the phone about the possibilities, Feyre has a run-in with Lucien that is awkward and full of new opportunities. Cassian and Nesta exchange letters.

“Feyre!” I jolted up in my seat, fingers flying off the keyboard in surprise behind my front desk computer, as the evening gallery docent Lena slammed her fists against the counter. “Feyre,” she repeated, “if I have to tell one more - even just  _ one more _ \- small child spawn of satan  _ not _ to touch the ping pong exhibit on the third floor, so help me I will send that child back to the hell from whence it came.”

I chuckled, relaxing back into my seat. “You gotta love modern art,” I replied. “No one can say it isn’t unique.”

Lena scowled. “Yeah, well uniqueness isn’t exactly the problem when it looks so damn interactive to a five-year-old. Who even brings a kid to a modern art gallery, holy-”

“Feyre!”

Lena snapped up immediately as our gallery manager, Alis, walked over with a curious smile. I had the distinct impression now and then she knew exactly what her employees discussed and made it a point to appear before they could go too far. I straightened instinctually and slid the sketches I’d been working at on a napkin earlier under the keyboard as she reached us. Much as Alis approved of us indulging our creativity, she did not appreciate it done on her dime.

“Hi Alis,” I said, smile bright. “What can I do for you today?”

“You’ve done enough already, love,” Alis said, flicking a folder against the counter before handing it over to Lena. “Schedules - for the upcoming tours next week.” Lena nodded politely and left to review, throwing one last long suffering look at me Alis couldn’t see as she left. “You’re off in fifteen, aren’t you?”

“Twenty, but who’s counting.”

“And when is your next shift?”

“Tomorrow at-”

“Three, right.” Another of Alis’s incredible talents, the ability to make any of us feel absolutely on edge at a moment’s notice. “I have some time a few minutes before that. Stop by my office on your way so we can have a chat. It’ll be a good way to wrap some things up, okay?”

Alis snapped her fingers with zest and a bright smile that caught the words in my throat and stopped them from spilling out. With nothing apparently to say on my end, Alis took my silence for agreement and strode off.

“But... I - okay.”

_ Wrap some things up??? _

What the hell did that mean? Unless -  _ shit _ .

My phone was out of my pocket the second I clocked out from my shift and hit the pavement outside to walk toward the buses. Now that I had moved in with Nesta and Elain, local transport was close enough to the apartment that I didn’t need to drag my car into the city and hassle parking. Rhys picked up on the second ring.

“Feyre darling, how are-”

“I’m getting fired!”

Miraculously, I wasn’t crying. Then again, I didn’t usually when things were stressful on the work front even if the past month had been challenging to say the least.

“Whoa, what the fuck?!” Rhys sounded incredulous, as I knew he would be. “Why are they firing you? What happened?”

I shook my head even though he wasn’t around to see it and started walking down the street, past the many thrift stores and hipster coffee houses that had sprung up all around the chic neighborhood my gallery was situated in. “I have no idea. My boss just came by at the end of my shift today and asked if she could have a meeting with me tomorrow to ‘wrap some things up.’“

A brief pause.

“But she didn’t say she was firing you?”

“Well... no, but I mean what the hell else could she have been talking about? You don’t ‘wrap things up’ with someone who’s sticking around, right? But I’ve been trying so hard and I thought I did a really great job with those expense reports she wanted typed up and she always thanks me when I drop her paperwork off in neat, concise little piles, and-”

His faint chuckle that I could barely pick up over the phone amid all the city traffic cut me off. “Feyre, relax! She didn’t say you were getting fired and I doubt the woman would be so glib about the whole thing if she were - which for the record, again, I don’t think she is.”

I snorted and it was not forgiving. “You clearly don’t know Alis if you think she’s not glib.”

“I’m just saying -  _ no, I’ll meet you after, thanks _ .”

“What?”

“I’m just saying -  _ after, Helion. Okay? I can’t study until after five because of class _ . Sorry, Feyre. I only meant that people who get fired aren’t usually forewarned - and don’t you work tomorrow? It would be pretty weird to make you come all the way in for your shift to fire you when she could have just done it now.”

Logical. He was so logical and it made so much sense that I stopped walking entirely in the middle of the sidewalk to take a breath, not caring at the annoyed looks I got from people now having to step around me to get by. “Ugh, you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” and his voice sounded much perkier. And a tad too smug at that. What I would have given to smother him in a kiss and stamp that smugness right out like I normally would have.

“What were you saying before - about, like, meeting somewhere after or something?”

“Oh, that.” All that lovely chipperness my boyfriend had had for me a second ago went right out the door and suddenly I wished the universe hadn’t stamped it out for me. “Can you hold on for one moment, Feyre darling?”

I tried not to let him hear me laugh and agreed, because hearing him call me that stupid nickname I had once hated so much in the beginning, filled me up with such joy now that I couldn’t see him nearly every day. About a minute had passed before Rhys popped back on.

“Sorry, I just - ah. Helion’s a bit persistent when he wants to be.”

“Isn’t that always?”

“Very funny, thanks. He wants to study together tonight, which is great. He’s actually really sharp when he gets down to business, but he’s ready to go  _ now _ and I have class in twenty.” I pulled the phone away from my ear at the mention of class and saw the time. Rhys must have heard my groan because a second later he asked, “What?” Guilt sank into my stomach. I hated admitting this part to him.

“I hate when you have class. And I forgot... in my post-maybe fired freakout. I was hoping we could chat tonight.”

A smile I couldn’t see, only feel, greeted me on the other end of the line as I spotted my bus turning the corner down the street.

“Believe me, if I hadn’t already agreed to study for this Human Trafficking and the Law class I’m in, I would, babe.”

“Babe?” I smiled, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from blushing in front of a bunch of strangers. “That’s a new one.”

I could practically feel the heat from his smirk through the phone. I certainly felt it over certain... other parts of myself. “And how do we feel about babe, hmm?” he asked, his voice suddenly deepening and become velvety smooth.

“I think I like darling better, but we’ll work on it.” I was about to tack on another saucy comment for him to chew on in class when I glanced up and saw a particularly bright head of hair I hadn’t seen since graduation through the nearest coffee shop window. “Good luck in class,  _ babe _ . I gotta run.”

“I’ll text you tonight!”

“Deal.”

I put my phone in my pocket and, glancing at the bus knowing other would follow soon enough, I entered the shop, jumping in line for a mango tea so I’d have an excuse to watch him. Why I felt the need to spy on Lucien as if we were never more than basic acquaintances was beyond me, but there I was doing it anyway.

He sat with his perfectly poised posture all alone at a table in the corner window. And judging by the seat occupied only by his backpack, the table covered with a textbook and laptop, he was going to stay single for the afternoon.

Lucien and I had mended our relationship somewhat after I’d done his portrait for my AP Studio Art exam, but we still hadn’t chatted much. And we had never really gotten around to resolving the issues that had gone down with Tamlin and the pair of us. It always felt so... sticky when we neared the subject, so we never brought it up.

I was starting to feel the same by the time I’d been handed my drink from the barista and was going to leave before he could notice I was standing around staring like the moron he undoubtedly thought I was, when Lucien’s brow furrowed over his textbook and he sighed. And it was not the sigh of a contented student, but rather the frustrated one I had made the past month too many times myself.

_ Damn it _ .

“Hey-ay,” I said, sort of leaning back from Lucien’s table like he might bite me if I got too close. I used to feel like Lucien really would bite me when I first met him - the number of times he’d scoffed at me - until I started arguing back and was complacent enough to let it be. Now we were somewhere in between.

Lucien’s head rose slowly from his textbook as though he didn’t really expect anyone to be standing there talking to him and then his eyes widened slightly when he realized it was me. I waved awkwardly. “Mind if I sit for a minute?”

“Feyre,” he said, leaning back against the chair. His lips parted a fraction and his eyes just barely squinted taking me in. “Not at all,” he said finally.

“Oh!” His lips twitched devilishly, so I quickly placed his backpack on the floor and sat lest he think I was just being polite in asking.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I offered for starters, drumming my fingers against my plastic cup. Lucien crossed his arms.

“And where exactly would you have expected to meet me?”

“I don’t know, just not... here. I thought you were going off to school somewhere.”

One single brow lifted high on Lucien’s forehead, a habit he and Rhys shared. “I did go off to school somewhere. That somewhere just happens to be here. You would know that if you’d bothered asking.”

No smirk. No wink. Nothing to suggest he was only teasing.

The longer I sat without a reply sipping my tea, the more and more Lucien’s eyes began to twinkle at me maliciously. After far too many sips, I threw my hands up and shrugged, not sure I should even be bothered when he seemed to be doing just fine throwing daggers at me. “Okay, well consider this me officially asking, Lukey.” His eyes narrowed at the old moniker he hated and I felt a surge of accomplishment. “What are you doing?”

“Studying, if you must know. I have my first quiz tomorrow and I’m a tad,” he glanced down at the open pages of his textbook and clicked his tongue sharp, “concerned.”

Looking at what I could see of the book upside down from across the table, there were more diagrams and images than there were paragraphs. “What on earth are you studying?”

Lucien almost gave a derisive snort. “Interesting choice of words. I’m taking an Intro to Botany class - for my science Gen Ed.”

“Botany?” The question came out a bit incredulously that Lucien glanced at me from under his eyes with something of a glare - again. “My sister is a botanist. Or, she’s training to be one.”

Lucien pursed his lips and studied the textbook very intently for a long minute without deigning to give me a reply. I was uncomfortable on every end. Maybe this was a mistake, I started to wonder. The added worry over what was going to happen tomorrow at work didn’t help.

But the longer Lucien sat and studied that book, the more the anxiety in me shifted to one of recognition.

“Lucien, do you - um. Do you think you’d want to maybe hangout sometime? I don’t know much about botany, but I’m sure between me and Elain we could figure something out.” Lucien peered up at me, genuine intrigue playing out on his face. My cheeks flushed red. “Or you know, we could just… hang out or whatever. If you wanted. Like, a friend. People do that sometimes, you know.”

“I’m aware,” he said, squinting like Sherlock at a crime scene. “Tell me, Feyre, what would dearest Rhysand think about us hanging out?”

“Dearest Rhysand,” I said sharply, “is not Tamlin and would not give two shits that I was hanging out with someone he knows perfectly well I haven’t the least bit of interest in.” That earned a prized smirk. “I just-” Sighed. And finally Lucien looked dropped the self-righteous act or whatever it was to look at me. Really look at me. “We aren’t enemies. I thought you knew that.”

“Were we ever really friends, Feyre?”

“Do you want to try and find out?”

“Are you actually  _ asking _ me for once?”

I closed my eyes to keep them from rolling and was glad when I opened them to see a little more calm coming from underneath all that long red hair of his. It was so long and thick now, I could hardly even notice the prominent scar over his eye that normally stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Yes, officially on the record asking you to be my friend.” I stood up, not wanting to tempt fate, but kind of glad I had stopped to say hello all the same. “I just moved out, but I have a few boxes left at my parents's house I haven’t gotten yet. I’m grabbing them Friday night. Swing by if you want and you can help me bring them over to the new place.”

Lucien nodded, but I’d walked off before he had the chance to start again, feeling oddly lighter. If he showed up, then great. And if not, he had the excuse of never having given me a confirmation to get him out of it. Not that I’d come looking for him about it anyway.

“I’m home!” I called into the Westwood apartment two buses and forty minutes later. No one called back. A brief survey of the three bedroom unit told me Nesta and Elain were out, probably both at the university a few streets over working on research because that was all they ever had time for now that school was back in session. I couldn’t fault them for it, it was their job after all. But sometimes I thought it must be nice coming home to… someone or something that was glad to see me.

With Rhys still busy, I pulled my phone back out and smiled to see the no less than ten snaps from Mor of her in class all day positively bored out of her mind, but wildly entertained by her professor’s cowlick. I was about to call her when I checked her public feed and saw that she and Az were out on a study date night because exams were already looming.

Everyone around me seemed to have class of some sort. Lucien seemed stressed about it, but he wasn’t about to talk to me about any of it. He probably wouldn’t show up on Friday either. The thought made my mood sink. Maybe the decision to forgo school for a while as I sorted out my life was the wrong choice after all if everyone else was doing it. Maybe I was stupid and wrong and -

Immediately, I walked into the bathroom and locked the door even though no one else was home. I ran a washcloth under some cool water and dabbed at my face until I felt that brisk, clean feeling over my skin.

I wasn’t going to start panicking now. I’d made it an entire month without Rhys and Cassian, and already one week without Mor and Az. I had my sisters, and mom wasn’t far. And dad had moved back in with mom over summer to give things another try now that he was out of the rehab center. So things were fine and I was doing what  _ I _ needed to do for  _ me _ .

“Yeah,” I said to myself. “It’s gonna be fine. You’re  _ fine _ .”

As I curled up on my bed draggin my unfinished sketches out from my work bag so I could focus on something, I tried to remember that fine was all I needed for now. I’d promised Rhys.

And then I remembered that in the morning, I might be fired. My charcoal pencil slid on the paper, a fat slash cutting through the sketch.

_ Shit _ .

* * *

_ My Dearest Sweetheart Nesta, _

_ I know you’re too pissed at me right now to acquiesce (told you I could spell it right) to my request to write me while I was at basic training, so I’ll do your pride a favor and write you first. ;) _

_ Virginia is way different from California. I can tell it’s already starting to get cold here. Makes me glad I won’t be staying long enough to reach winter. I wonder if we’ll get snow before I leave. Who knows where they’ll send me after all this, though. Maybe snow will be the least of my worries? At least the trees are nice. They turn all shades of red and orange and yellow in the fall. It’s nothing like home and it’s lovely. I still miss California and all its many shades of brown though. I’m probably the only one. _

_ Wherever I end up, I’ll just be glad when I can have my phone back. And a computer. Anything electronic really. Letters only convey so much and they cramp my hand. And I have nudes to send you that I just can’t seem to render in a sketch properly. You can blame the army for that void in your life, the fuckers. My sincerest apologies, sweetheart. _

_ The training itself is pretty brutal. They have us running five miles every morning and every night. I’ve got blisters on my feet because I didn’t size my boots properly at check-in. The drill instructor chewed me out on the third day in front of everyone when I asked to see a medic. That… wasn’t great. But so far four years of wrestling and twelve years of martial arts are paying off. I feel like I’ve got a leg up on most of the other recruits so I’m hoping that will earn me favors later on when assignments are given out for jobs and placements. I hear Southeast Asia is on the table. It’s not Russia, but maybe you’d…? _

_ I hope you’re okay, Ness. I hope you’ll write. Even if you won’t, I’ll keep writing until you say otherwise. Until you break the promise. Please - if you can only write me one time, at least tell me if you have to break it. I’ll understand. _

_ Love Always, _

_ Cassian _

_ (Forgive the sketch - it’s not to scale.) _

* * *

_ Cassian - _

_ Southeast Asia is lovely in the spring. Yes, you’re the only one missing our ugly brown hills. Fuck off with the sketches and the nicknames or  _ I’ll _ chew you out in front of everyone and won’t be around to play medic when you need cleaning up afterward. _

_ Nesta _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre receives surprising news about a new position at work, but struggles to find anyone to help her celebrate. In the absence of her friends and a less than exuberant response from her sisters, Feyre explores her confusing emotions and tries to throw herself into work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm rusty AF and Feyre is sooooo not Feyre from the books. Forgive me.

“Feyre!” Alis smiled brightly as I entered her office, looking up from her phone call behind her desk, before the pleasant demeanor dropped off in an instant. “Sit!” she said curtly with a sharp snap of her nails. The gesture did nothing for my nerves.

I dropped my bag and sank into the cushiony seat waiting for me, running my thumbs over my palms in my lap as Alis wrapped up her call.

“Right on time as usual, Feyre,” Alis said with a wink, setting her phone down.

“I try,” I replied with what I hoped was a humorous shrug.

Alis clasped her hands on the desk and stared at me wide-eyed and expectant. “So, tell me Feyre. What are you doing here?”

“I’m - oh.” Alis barely blinked anticipating my response. “I’m sorry, did I get the wrong time? Was I supposed to come after my shift?” I stood halfway out of my chair, pointing over my shoulder. “I can come back-”

“No, no sweetheart,” Alis said and thank the stars, she looked more amused than put off. “I mean, what are you doing with yourself  _ here _ .” She waved her hand around casually at the walls surrounding us. To our left, a huge glass window overlooked the upper lawns of the outdoor cafe. “At the gallery, love. It’s September, nearly October now. You’re still here. Why is that?”

_ Fuck, she’s totally firing me _ .

I swallowed and steeled myself. I’d prepared all night and all morning for this chance no matter how Rhys had protested my worries were silly, but it still unnerved me to face Alis and her brash forwardness.

“Well, since we’re on the subject,” I began, measuring each word carefully, “I’d like to thank you for your mentorship while I’ve been on staff. I know I’m just the receptionist, but working here the last year has given me so much opportunity and growth. I quite enjoy working here and hope to continue learning as long as you’ll have me.”

Alis’s hands made a big show of clapping together mid-air. “That’s wonderful! I’m delighted to hear you’ve found a home here, Feyre. I really am.” My chest deflated and the nerves calmed somewhat. Maybe she wasn’t going to fire me after all. “But I’m afraid that’s not quite what I meant.”

Oh, shit, maybe not….

Alis stood and clicked open one of her filing cabinets. Whether the documents she searched for were relevant to me or not, I couldn’t tell. But she charged on regardless.

“Every year I employ local students from schools in the area. Some, like you, become receptionists. Others are here just do a spot of cleaning when needed. Many trot off to the kitchen staff for a bit of culinary experience. But always,  _ always _ , Feyre,” and there she paused, allowing the cabinet drawer to fly shut with a loud  _ clunk! _ , “they always leave the gallery for college or greater pursuits after graduation. Except for you.”

“Oh, well I-”

Alis cut straight across me and sat back down focused on whatever file she now held in hand.

“You’re a bright young woman, Feyre. And,” she looked up briefly, “I like you. So you’ll understand my concern when I wonder as to why college has started and you’re having nothing to do with it.”

No longer able to stomach the knots tying me down in all the wrong places, a burst of laughter tumbled out of my traitorous, stupid mouth. And for a few moments, it was a relief to let some of the tension go as my lungs shook with the nervous chuckle… until Alis’s brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry,” I said instantly, clearing my throat. “It’s just… I’m sorry, but am I getting fired?”

“Fired!” Her brows shot up to the ceiling. “Goodness no, why on earth would you think that?”

No mutual laughter. No bemused grin.

_ Shit _ .

I inhaled sharply. “It’s just that yesterday afternoon before I left, you mentioned something about wrapping things up and now we’re having a conversation I wasn’t quite anticipating.”

“Feyre, Feyre, you’re a doll!” Alis stood again and it didn’t escape my notice that the thin folder she’d pulled remained behind. She perched on the edge of her desk, her pencil skirt wrinkling at the weird angle, and stared down at me. I thought my soul might riddle through with holes.

“I simply want to know why I haven’t lost you to bigger and better things yet and whether or not I’m going to anytime soon. That way I can know whether or not to  _ promote _ you. Not fire you - heavens no!”

“Pro-promote me?  _ Me _ ?”

I had to have heard her wrong. I was getting fired. Not promoted. Wasn’t I?

“Don’t look so shocked,” Alis replied and this time, there was a faint brush of laughter behind it, lighter than a stroke of watercolor on a canvas.

Suddenly, a wonderful rush went through me, the hairs on my arms standing up in a delightment of goosebumps. If I wasn’t so horribly embarrassed, I might have passed out from relief. A promotion - I was getting promoted!

“You’re a wonderful employee and a delight to my reception cubicle,” Alis pressed on when I apparently lost the ability to form coherent sentences in my joyous stupor. “But I think you’re meant for more. You clearly aren’t off to study at all hours of the evening, so I’m wondering if there is something else you had in mind to leave me for in the coming weeks instead?”

“No - absolutely not,” I said as firmly as possible. Whatever she had to offer, I wanted it badly. I wasn’t quite sure yet why I was so thrilled - the chance to prove myself possibly or maybe just the sheer satisfaction of being recognized - but I was on the hunt now that I knew my ass wasn’t being handed to me.

“To be honest,” I continued, “last year was a difficult year for my family. I know I want to be as involved in art as possible as I move forward in my career, but since I’m not sure yet what that path looks like, I thought it best to remain with family for the time being while I… while my family settled in a bit.”

Not entirely true given that I’d stayed home to sort  _ myself _ out in the aftermath of senior year and nearly losing my shit. But Alis didn’t need to know that.

She peered down at me very seriously as I spoke, nodding the entire time.

“A wise decision, I think. Feyre, if you’re up for it, there’s a task I’d very much like to designate to you.”

My ears perked up as Alis reached back for the mystery folder. “There is?”

“Every year, the various  _ smaller _ galleries in the greater Los Angeles area convene for a networking event of sorts. It’s a way for us to affirm connections, exchange ideas, and keep the galleries working in fluid synchronicity. It’s also a great way to  _ show off _ .” Her eyebrows wiggled suggestively and I huffed a giggle. “This year we’ve been selected to host and I’d like you to organize the event.”

My smile grew a fraction of an inch and then promptly froze on my face. “You what?” The words choked out of my throat. But all Alis saw was my frozen smile.

“Oh don’t worry, dearest. I’d help you of course. But I think you’ve earned a step up from your current post, and after how successfully you plotted that student dance of yours, I know you’re more than capable of rising to the occasion.”

Sweat collected in my armpits.  _ Morrigan _ had organized that dance. Not me. Alis knew that I had only been one of a team of many. If not because I had already worked at the gallery and was the natural choice to serve as go-between, Alis probably wouldn’t have even known who I was in the whole thing.

Oh, oh, oh, there was so much sweat - noooo!

And I was wearing my favorite purple blouse too.

I shuddered and hoped I wasn’t getting too sweaty for anyone to notice. I still had a shift to endure and there was nothing worse than when I had to receive art clients with sweat stains. My foot began anxiously tapping the floor at the thought.

“That’s extremely kind of you, Alis,” I finally managed to say. “Thank you for the offer, but are you sure-”

She held up a hand. “Feyre, if I may and because you seem quite keen to misunderstand this conversation for reasons I can’t fathom, I’ll indulge you in a fault I think you could improve on.”

My stomach clenched. Yeah, I was definitely going to be pit stain central after this. “Okay,” I mumbled.

And then Alis surprised me. Leaning down, she grabbed my hands and uncurled them from the fists they’d become. “You need to stop being so damn hard on yourself.” Her voice was unyielding, giving me no room to budge or ignore, but it held a sympathetic note that would have made me relax had her hands not been gripping my own. “Take a bit of confidence in your work now and then. You do fine. More than fine! And I think you can do this. Think of yourself as Event Coordinator if it helps.”

I swallowed at the sound of such a fancy new title. It sounded kind of… kind of grown up. “Event Coordinator?”

Alis smiled into the intrigue I offered. “Sounds a hell of a lot cooler on a resume than receptionist, eh? And with what I have in mind for you, it’ll get you a lot farther too.”

“What do you mean with what you have in-”

“Another day,” she said, waving me off and returning to the folder. “This contains some brief details of past networking events similar to the one we’ll be hosting. It’s not until March, so there’s plenty of time to work things out and I can set up a proper meeting with you for next week to get you officially settled into the job and on the ball planning.”

Alis continued to talk, but meanwhile, I’d opened the folder and my mind was instantly set reeling.

These parties were elaborate. Way more people than what we hosted for the dance - double that amount at least if what I could judge by the photos was any indication. And while Starfall had been fancy by high school standards, these meetings appeared downright decadent.

Could I really pull this off? Without Mor? Without any of her natural flare for advertisements and promotional materials and glitter galore? Starfall had been her love child, her project, her idea, her-

Wait, no. Starfall had been my concept. I chewed on my lip as memories of that first student council meeting surfaced to mind. The jerks had thrown me to the wolves the very first day, put all the pressure on me to figure out the big theme for the event and I…

I smiled, remembering how frightening and crazy and  _ fun _ it had been to meet them all that first day. My friends. My  _ family _ .

I’d done that. And Alis was right, it  _ had _ been a success.

But this… I blew out a whistle of air as I skimmed the remaining pages of the brief. This was a lot more than a dj and some garden lights.

“You really think I can do it?”

Alis smiled. “Absolutely.”

Maybe she was right. I didn’t know what she had planned for me later on and I could safely assume I wouldn’t find out until she decided she wanted me to know, but this would be a big step up and look fantastic on my resume. Lots of galleries wanted more than a background in art with the growing demand for tours, education, and event management happening.

And on top of that, if I was getting promoted, then that meant-

“You’ll make double what you make now, by the way,” Alis said. I snapped the folder shut and batted the dollar signs from my eyes.

“When can I start?”

* * *

Alis wasted no time getting me to my shift, which meant I had zero time between the meeting and work to frantically text, call, email, snap, and whatever other relevant forms of communications existed my news to everyone living soul I knew.

I thought work might drag from waiting it out and certainly my feet were tapping behind the reception desk wishing we weren’t so busy so I could at least sneak a text in to Rhys, but the newfound nervous energy made time speed up and suddenly, I realized I was excited. Truly excited.

What ended up bothering me more than not being able to get ahold of anyone initially was the fact that I almost felt as though I didn’t recognize the excitement - what it was or what it felt like. But each time my brain tried to puzzle out when the last time was that I’d had this uplifting of a moment (and what that implied about me that I had to struggle to do it), new patrons would enter and I’d be back to work.

Sometimes I was grateful for the job beyond what it did for my art and employment skills.

Rhys was the first call I made. I waited until I was all the way out the door and en route to the bus stop so Alis couldn’t catch me for something last minute.

But Rhys didn’t pick up.

I bit my lip when I remembered it was Thursday. He had an Intro to Law class from 3:00 to 5:00 on Thursdays and it was 3:15 now. Still, he was such a prick, he’d probably text me back if I tried.

He didn’t. Five minutes on the bus went by and Rhys was definitely giving his professor his full attention, which was technically a good thing. So I tried Mor.

Except that she didn’t answer either, so I sent another text to her. I considered texting Az for half a second before laughing it off. Az was great at giving you whatever support you wanted in the moment, but he’d do it with a lot less enthusiasm than I was looking for his bubble other half.

I was halfway to typing in Cassian’s name when I remembered he didn’t have anything that ran on electricity in basic at his disposal. Mom and dad hardly understood anything technology based if it wasn’t necessary for work and - ugh  _ shit _ , I swore, not realizing I’d done it out loud until the middle-aged mom with two kids sitting across from me made an audible tisking noise. 

But I was frustrated because Amren -  _ even Amren _ \- wouldn’t be available. I didn’t know where she’d traveled to since leaving at the start of summer for Asia, but wherever it was, it was bound to be outside my time zone.

I realized exactly how excited I’d been at work when I made it home without being completely deflated - except why should I have been deflated at all? It didn’t make any sense. People were busy. People waited for return texts and calls all the time. And yet, there was I trying not to get flustered and angry and… and… broken down?

“Elain?” I said. I set my keys on the counter and tossed my purse down as I entered our three-bedroom apartment nestled within walking distance of my sisters’s campus. “Nesta?”

Silence.

A strange, sinking feeling slithered over my skin and settled into by gut telling me I was alone and that that was not okay.

Work. I’d been happy and fine at work.

So I took my work bag and threw it down next to me on the floor in front of our black leather couches (the fancy ones Nesta had insisted on purchasing to dress the apartment up even though they’d cost her half a paycheck). I sat down and took out the folder Alis had given me determined to get a start.

The folder was thin. I supposed it made sense. Alis said I wouldn’t formally start working on the event until next week, but she had keyed me in on a few details, the most important of which was that I had to be original.

March. The whole shindig was going down in March.

Last time, I’d done Starfall. Winter, lights, snow… Everything had faintly glimmered that night. It was subtle. This would have to be different - if only for Alis’s sake. But what would the direct opposite of a vision I was so enamored of be that I could reasonably begin to pull off… in the exact same venue?

“This was a mistake,” I groaned, my head falling back and hitting the front of the arm rest on the couch, which in turn gave me a direct line of sight to the patio. More specifically, Elain’s patio.

The tiny outdoor deck was simply covered in plant matter. Be it flowers, succulents, or straight greenery, there was hardly enough room out there to move, let alone grow a garden. But somehow Elain with her magical green thumb she’d had since we were kids was making it happen. A right proper spring fling on our tiny terrace.

Spring.

My eyes snapped wide because -  _ duh _ . The opposite of winter was spring. And March would be the beginning of spring.

Visions in my head started swimming and I hastily gathered the photos from the last few annual gallery meetings to make sure I wouldn’t be copying anyone else’s work, but nope! No flowers in site. At least, not like the floral explosion I was picturing in my head.

_ Remember what Alis said,  _ I told myself.  _ You are capable of this. _

Slowly, a soft, grateful smile spread across my face. This idea could work. I could already see pieces of it coming together in different spots around the gallery. It would be like a summer solstice in full bloom, living art - if summer solstices could happen in the spring?

I ran and snatched my sketch book out of my room desperate to get some initial ideas down. Why the hell couldn’t a solstice happen in spring? There was probably a term for it I wasn’t aware of somewhere in the world. A writer in one of Elain’s faery books or something could probably make one up for me.

By the time I heard the keys turning in the door, I’d littered the floor and created my own paper nest.

“Whoa,” Elain said, pausing in the door. “You’ve been busy.”

“Elain, these are heavy!”

“Oh!” Elain jumped forward so that Nesta could step in. “Sorry, I forgot. Feyre caught me off guard.”

“She what?”

Nesta made it in carrying two huge tote bags positively stuffed with books. And not just any books. Really, really thick and  _ old _ books. With letters from another alphabet and script I already knew not to bother trying to read.

“Damn it, Feyre,” Nesta said, her shoulders slumping, but she didn’t dare let her books hit the floor. “What the hell - we talked about this! I want our deposit back next summer if we have to move and getting charcoal all over the floor isn’t going to help!”

Elain visibly inhaled, but I held my hands up defensively, trying to keep the anger at bay. Happy. I was supposed to be happy today.

“No charcoal,” I said. “See - none! You can chill okay. It’s just a pencil.” I wiggled my clean, charcoal-free fingers for emphasis. “Don’t worry, I won’t get it on the carpet or your things.” Only a day after moving in, I’d gotten a smudge on the cover of her new copy of War and Peace - some fancy collector’s edition or something. Elain and I had spent an hour getting it off frantically before Nesta had gotten home from teaching her seminar.

Nesta’s chest deflated in one long, painful movement of quiet. “Fine,” she said and regathered herself to take her books into the bedroom.

“What’s with the book haul?” I whispered to Elain after Nesta had closed the door. Elain kicked off her shoes and set them aside with a soft chuckle.

“The book haul? Or the instant bitchery? Knowing you, I’d thought you’d inquire about the latter?” She gave me a pointed look, but it wasn’t unkind. “Tea?”

“Love some,” I said. Elain took the pitcher out of the fridge and cracked some ice into two glasses. I was a little more than smug knowing that second glass was for me and not for Nesta the way it might have once automatically been. “But really, what’s going on with her this time?”

Elain took a long sip before a sort of sigh escaped. “She found out this morning after her office hours that her mentor is leaving at the end of the school year.”

“Oh,” I said, and leaned back against the counter. “I suppose I get that. I never really had a ton of teachers I was close to except Mrs. Weaver. I guess if my favorite were leaving I’d be pretty bummed too.”

“That’s just it, she’s not bummed at all. She’s  _ stressed _ .”

“Stressed?”

Elain nodded. “In the wake of her mentor’s absence, the department is setting up an associate professor position and Nesta’s been nominated!”

“But that’s - holy shit, that’s awesome!”

Nesta, a professor. I wasn’t sure what the difference between a full professor and an associate one was, but anything that put Nesta up in front of a full lecture hall with that glare of hers sounded like a dream to me. I’d pay big money to watch the first idiot freshman say something stupid to her. It would be a dream come true for Nesta - berating people for being stupid about the things she loved most and getting paid top dollar to do it.

So why the hell was she apparently miserable over it?

As if in answer to my question, Elain snorted and took another long sip. “That’s just it. It is awesome, but it all rides on her thesis. The application process is a long one and there are a few others applying. If her thesis defense doesn’t go well in the spring…”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

“Then no berating stupid freshmen.”

Elain’s faced screwed up. “No what?”

I shook my head quickly. “Nothing, just a private joke. Anyway, we’re still on for dinner tomorrow at mom and dad’s, right? I kind of wanted to talk to them. Some exciting stuff happened at the gallery today and Alis wants me to-”

“Oh no, sorry Fey, but I don’t think dinner will work tomorrow.” Elain crinkled her nose in that way that says ‘I’m only sorry because I have to be for your sake’ and moved on to filling her watering can out for the daily afternoon plant feeding.

“Wait - why not?”

Elain shrugged. “Nesta’s hitting the books hard - as you can tell. She has a million volumes of obscure Russian poetry and analysis to get through before she can write the next portions of her thesis and I just-” she threw a hand up in the air as the can filled. “I just don’t wanna bother. Plus mom and dad have been so awkward lately. It feels weird going over there now that we’ve gotten completely moved out, ya know?”

Again, there was that crinkled nose fake apology thing going on. And she wouldn’t quite meet my eye.

Dad had been a lot better since he left the rehabilitation center in the spring. Mom was keeping an eye on him, letting him move back in to give the marriage another chance and to see if having someone physically around who wasn’t a child - re: me - would help.

And things had seemed to be better than before. Dad wasn’t drinking anymore and Mom had been more forgiving… sort of.

It was a work in progress, but it was  _ working _ and that was the point.

Only, it appeared that I was still the only sister of us three who wanted to care. Nesta was so far into her books already she hadn’t even thought our weekly family dinners would be a thing anymore. And Elain apparently was hoping I’d just move on about the whole thing.

But I needed dinner to happen. Even if it was just one last dinner.

“I got promoted at work today,” I blurted out and Elain jumped, her hand making a small splash with the running water.

“That’s great! Good for you, sweet pea!” She smiled brightly and stepped around me with the watering can, moving for the porch. I slid the doors open so she could step through. It was a good thing she was so tiny, she barely fit between the plants.

“Look, I sort of wanted to mark the occasion a bit. I’ve never been promoted before and I’m honestly really jazzed.”

“You should be!”

I nodded to the wind since Elain was focused on the peonies blooming next to some South American flower I didn’t recognize and waited for her to say something. She didn’t. I took another breath.

“Um, Elain, is there any way you could maybe convince Nesta to take us to dinner tomorrow with mom and dad?” The can stopped watering. Elain looked up at me with a withering look on her face. “Look I get it. I know you two don’t care and you don’t wanna go and you think this family isn’t really a family anymore. It’s fine. But I haven’t been able to get a hold of anyone all day and I just want to sort of celebrate with the only people I have, yeah?”

Her eyes glossed a bit as she stared at me, lips parted. I wondered if maybe I’d made it sound like I only wanted this dinner because my parents and sisters were “the only people I have” - a last resort. That I would have prefered anyone else when that actually wasn’t true. But was that how Elain saw it?

“I’ll try to see what I can do - but no promises!” Elain’s head tilted. “You know how she gets."

“Thank you!” I stepped forward to grab her, but there wasn’t any room. Elain and I stared awkwardly at the gap separating us and nervous laughter rumbled out of me. “Really, thanks. I appreciate it a lot.”

“I know,” Elain said and went casually back to her garden.

When I checked my phone, I had two missed texts. One from Mor:

_ Babe!! I have SOOOO MUCH to tell you zomgggg! You caught me in the middle of a study seminar, but it’s Thursday and I guess that’s party night in Seattle?? Az is taking me to a mixer some classmates invited us too. I’ll text you after!! _

And one from Rhys:

_ Helion is turning our common space into a study party space. Emphasis on the party. Are you okay? I’m sorry I missed your text, I was in class. What’s up? _

If Mor was going to be out partying, then she wouldn’t be back until late. And she was a lightweight, so I wasn’t going to count on anything more than a couple of boozy texts at three in the morning I didn’t want to be up for. I texted back and told her I’d call her in the morning.

That just left Rhys. I didn’t want to bother him if he was having a good time, especially if it meant interrupting some bonding time with his roommate. I knew Helion made Rhys a bit anxious at times.

But again, that sinking feeling came over me, one that irrationally said it would be the end of everything if I didn’t get to talk to someone more interested in me than flowers and Russian literature by the end of the night. I hit the call button and waited several tense seconds as it rang.

“Feyre, darling.”

My heart fluttered in my chest. Thank the art gods above.

“Oh my gosh, Rhys - you wonderful, perfect soul, you picked up.”

“Ooh, I’m listening,” he purred over the phone. I smiled, picking my iced tea off the kitchen counter where I’d left it, and shut myself in my bedroom for a long, long discussion with New York.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre finally gets through to Mor and has a bittersweet phone catch up about Mor's new life in Seattle for school with Az. Later, dinner with her family goes horribly wrong, but luckily someone shows up to help Feyre get out of the mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I straight up used Google Translate for the Russian. I'm so sorry to any native speakers who read it and know if it's wrong. It's just meant to say, "Take care, my love."

“Ugh, Feyre. I am so drunk!”

“No,” I said and tried extremely hard not to laugh. (Spoiler: I failed). “Drunk is what you were last night. I believe the term you’re looking for now is  _ hungover _ .”

Mor exhaled a long, disappointed groan on the other end of the line. At least she wasn’t gonna fight it anymore. “I am so never doing that again.” This time I laughed outright.

“Oh you so are and you know it. You’ll sober up in a few hours and come next Thursday, you’ll have forgotten all about  _ this _ Thursday.”

“Ha, easy for you to say. You weren’t the one washing puke out of your hair at four in the morning.” All I could think as Mor yawned and the faint sounds of her Keurig brewing reached me was that Az must have had one hell of a night. “I’m sorry I missed your texts yesterday. You sounded really excited. What’s going on?”

She tried to inject some enthusiasm, but even for Mor, her usual pep was missing. A huff of air snorted out my nose as I again had to stifle a laugh.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing! Um, I was texting you because I got some good news at work and I just wanted someone to share it with.”

I couldn’t be quite sure since we were on the phone, but it sounded like her mug had hit the table with a distinct thump. Progress, perhaps. “Spill it missy!”

Yep, definite progress. A flutter of what I could only describe as  _ happy _ hummed through me at the sound of my best friend’s spark of energy. It had only been little more than a week, but damn I missed her already so, so much.

“Okay,” I said, falling against my bed on my stomach like a giddy teenager - which I guess technically I still was? But whatever. It felt good. “It’s nothing crazy. I just - oh my gosh, don’t laugh - but basically I got promoted to plan events at the gallery like the one we did for the dance.”

The sound that exited Morrigan’s mouth was ungodly for someone supposedly so hungover. I had to pull the phone away a few inches until it stopped. “Feyre, that’s fantastic! Holy shit, you’re a fucking party planner!”

“Excuse me, it’s ‘Event Coordinator’ thank you very much.”

Mor burst out laughing. “It’s a party planner. You’re a fucking party planner and this is legit the greatest news I’ve heard in forever. Congrats! I’m so excited for you!” Suddenly, she sighed. And it didn’t sound as perky as the last thirty seconds of our conversation had.

“What? What was that sigh for?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s just…”

“Just?”

A brief pause, and then, “I was gonna ask you what we were gonna do tonight to celebrate and then I remembered we can’t.” A nervous chuckle that was kind of sad suddenly came out of her as she spoke. “Gosh I’m pathetic, ha. You’d think I could take a week away.”

“No, no, no - I  _ get  _ it.” Damn, did I ever get it. “I wish we could do something too. I miss you. Thank goodness Seattle is at least in the same time zone. Sometimes I text Rhys at midnight before remembering he’s only a couple hours away from an alarm going off to wake him up. Who even knows where Amren is.”

“Oh my gosh, Amren!”

“Right?”

Our simultaneous giggling fell silent quicker than I’d have liked. “How is Seattle?” I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling waiting for her to answer, half-hoping she’d say it sucked and was transferring to a school somewhere down here.

“It’s honestly great,” Mor said, and my heart sank a little. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nowhere near as awesome as Cali and I can already tell I’m gonna freeze to death in all this rain come winter, but the trees are lovely and everyone is so friendly. Plus, they recycle a lot and eat fish, so it’s not super different. I think I’ll survive.”

“That’s great. I’ll have to come up and-”

“And oh my gosh, I never knew how fashionable this city was! I’ve been doing some killer shopping already. They have this entire neighborhood with some of the trendiest cafes. There’s this one…”

And on and on she went.

Lists of restaurants she wanted to try, shops she had visited, places where she could take Az to study on weekends… She could protest all she wanted, but there was no denying it: Mor was absolutely smitten with her new home for the next four years, which meant there was no way she’d be coming back to LA anytime soon, no matter how much my selfish heart wanted her to.

“Feyre, are you okay?”

“Huh?”

I blinked my eyes as if opening them for the first time all day and realized I’d stopped paying attention. Guilt cut through me. Mor was being nothing but kind and she’d praised me for my promotion at work - exactly what I had hoped she’d do after Nesta and Elain had sort of snubbed me. So why was I being such a shit friend in return?

No. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t be that person. I guess technically I already had been, but I would find a way to at least fake it for her. Mor deserved the same excitement about her life in return.

“Sorry,” I said, hurriedly. “I was just thinking about what you’d… said earlier. About the park you and Az wanna study in. It just sounds amazing.”

Oh I was the worst friend. The words sounded awful even to my ears, but Mor ran with it.

“Oh yeah! It’s amazing, Feyre. You’re definitely gonna have to go with me when you visit someday.”

Someday. But when? My mind started reeling trying not to stress over how much of a gap was between us. Why could I only see the problems, the loss, and not the good things - the possibilities? I squished my face together and concentrated.

“How is Az lately? He taking the move okay?”

“Azzy? Oh he’s doing really well actually! I don’t know why I was quite so worried he’d have a hard time leaving SoCal, but he’s so organized and chill about everything, I guess it’s not that surprising.”

I snorted. “Azriel? Chill? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. I do worry a little though because the boy studies night and day. Between how often he hits the books and how late we stay up fucking, he doesn’t get a ton of sleep. Actually… when does he sleep?”

“Uh, Mor, I don’t know that we need to get into details about that.”

“Feyre, my babe - apartment life is amazing. I am  _ so _ glad we didn’t let my uncle talk us into getting dorms. I don’t think I could handle having to sneak in and out of each other’s rooms every night or work around roommates just to get laid-”

“Mor, haha, um can we not-”

“Oh my gosh - two nights ago,” and she burst out laughing, completely wrapped up in her own little world, “he did this thing where he flipped me over and my legs went over the back of his-”

“ _ Morrigan, please we really don’t have to talk about this-” _

“Um, yeah, Feyre, we do! I came like three times that night in fifteen minutes! The neighbors left a fucking note on the door complaining about the noise the next morning, can you believe it?”

“Mor, what the actual - wait, three times?”

“Mhmmmmm.” She sounded so smug, I could picture precisely how her face would look just then, eyes lit up and lips pursed together in an almost, knowing grin.

“In fifteen minutes?”

“Yeeeeep!” Her voice made a little popping sound on the ‘p.’

I rolled back over onto my stomach and traced the embroidery patterns on my bedspread coyly even though she couldn’t see me. “When you say your legs went over the back of him, um, what exactly did you mean by that?”

Mor giggled. “Okay, here’s what you gotta do.”

 

* * *

While my conversation with Mor ended on a rather…  _ inspiring _ note, the car ride to my parents house for dinner negated my good mood pretty quickly. Nesta drove with a death grip on the wheel, Elain sitting quietly next to her in the front seat. Behind them, I caught Nesta’s gaze flicking periodically to me every time the tote bag on my lap shifted, causing the bottles inside to  _ clink _ .

Nesta sighed, her fingers visibly tightening on the steering wheel.

“It’s not booze, Nesta,” I said for about the dozenth time.

“Might as well be for all the good it’ll do.”

I rolled my eyes knowing full well she could see me in the mirror and yanked a bottle from the bag. “It’s Martinelli’s for fuck’s sake -  _ sparkling apple cider _ . There’s not a drop of alcohol in it. Dad doesn’t even have to drink it if he doesn’t want to.”

“That’s not the point, Feyre.”

“Yeah, well what is the point? Because honestly, I’m just trying to have one single night where, for once-”

“Okay!” Elain’s voice chirped shrilly above us all. “Here we are! Home sweet home. Now let’s all just play nice, mmkay? Feyre is excited about her job and wants to celebrate with some very non-alcoholic beverages and a home cooked meal. The least we can do is indulge her.”

“Thank you, Elain,” I said with one last bristly look at Nesta as I opened my door. Though I couldn’t help but notice the way my sister had said she was indulging me, another reminder the pair of them would never have been here by choice.

“It’s just the one time and then never again…” I heard Elain whisper in the car as I shut the door. But I was already walking up the front steps, the sight of dad sitting on the couch in the living room window spurring me on.

A hug. Please just let him hug me.

I didn’t wait to bother knocking or ringing the bell. “Feyre - hiya kiddo!”

Dad’s voice was like warm honey on a cold day. And then his arms wrapped around me and I felt my feet lift from the floor along with my mood. He no longer smelled like cheap booze the way he had for months as I finished high school. But rather, leather and wood from the studio. Good, he was working again.

“Dad,” I said, shutting my eyes and taking in that childhood scent, the way it felt to be held by someone who cared.

“Can we eat and get this over with?”

Dad pulled back from me and pecked Elain on the cheek with a kiss. “Nice to see you too, Nesta honey,” he said as my eldest sister breezed past without any other form of hello.

“I have an entire volume of Pushkin to get through by tomorrow morning.” She looked pointedly at me over her shoulder. “And I’ll need all the time I can get.”

“Nesta, please - manners.”

My mom set the final plate on the table - roasted chicken from what I could spot - and gave Nesta a sharp look, even for her. Elain patted my shoulder and winked at me before moving toward the dining area. It was a little off putting not knowing whose side she was on since she was constantly shifting about, but at least I wasn’t entirely out numbered as I took my seat.

Mom hadn’t gone all out on dinner, but she had taken time to make some of my favorites. The roasted chicken sat next to a plate of asparagus and bread rolls, and further down was a huge bowl of mashed potatoes dripping with a whopping pad of butter in the middle.

“Water, Feyre?”

“Oh no don’t bother, mom,” Nesta said, her face pinched. She folded the napkin very carefully on her lap. “She brought drinks.”

I swallowed, the nerves raking my mouth dry, as mom and dad looked at me, waiting. Why the hell she devolved into a two-year-old when we were under the same roof, I had no idea. Glaring at Nesta, I pulled my tote bag up to the table top and extracted one of the bottles. “Um, I was just thinking, maybe - if it’s okay! - if we wanted to, we could have some… cider?”

There was a brief pause and Nesta only looked bored. “Sure,” mom said with a shrug. “Pop it open.”

And my greedy, attention-seeking fingers immediately fumbled for the foil covering the cap.

“What are we celebrating, Feyre?” dad asked, leaning over the table, elbows crossed. The cap made the faintest pop as I removed it, a cool curling whisp coming out the opening.

“I got promoted at work!”

“Aww, hun - that’s wonderful,” dad said. Mom simply started eating with a casual nod. “I want you to tell me everything.”

And he meant it. His eyes were positively beaming and he hadn’t bothered touching any of the food like the rest of us had yet. He was entirely focused on me.

I started talking when it hit me that I was about to start crying. When did I become such a mess? Or maybe I was just relieved?

Yeah, relieved. All the stress at work and with everyone moving and my family being so mixed up, it was just stress. I could do this. I could make all of this work. I promised myself I would as I filled dad in on all the details of the job.

As I relayed all the details, I started wondering if maybe being hard at work would actually be a good thing besides just the fact that I needed to work and earn a paycheck and do  _ something _ . I couldn’t sit around at home being lazy all the time.

But no, maybe it would take my mind off Rhys and Mor and everyone being so far away. Lena was pretty chill. We hadn’t gotten super close or anything since I’d started at the gallery, but maybe we could hang out sometime and become friends.

“The event’s in March,” I said, wrapping it all up. “So while there might be other smaller stuff to do between now and then, I start planning the gallery meeting next week. It’s gonna be a big project!”

“It sounds like a lot of work,” mom said. I looked over to see her carefully cutting up a slice of chicken before lifting it to her mouth and watching me carefully. Almost critically.

“Well, yeah of course, it totally will be,” I said. “But I’m just really grateful to have the opportunity to try. Alis thinks I’ve got a talent for this sort of thing and I wanna give it a shot.”

“I’ve no doubt you can do it, Feyre,” mom said, setting down her fork. She cleared her throat. “But I just wonder if maybe,” her hands gestured openly, “if you might have an easier time working on the project from home.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, don’t start.”

“Nesta-”

“Really mom, we’ve been through this.” I was surprised to see Nesta suddenly so riled up. I set my own silverware down and sat back. Dad and Elain looked equally uneasy.

“Been through what?” I asked. Nesta and mom barreled on without so much as glancing in my direction.

“We all decided Feyre is more than capable of living out on her own.”

“Yes, but-”

“No, no buts. Ugh.” Nesta grabbed the bottle of Martinelli’s from the middle of the table and drank straight from the rim as if it were a much harder liquor. Dad lifted his eyebrows. What the hell was she talking about? “We agreed - she’s eighteen. Another few months, she’ll be nineteen. Elain and I both left for college and never came back. She has a right to do that too. It’s only been a week, shit. Give her a chance.”

“Um, excuse me,” I started to say, even lifting a hand like a schoolgirl in class. “But what are you-”

“Nesta,” mom said, completely ignoring me. My blood began to creep into a low boil. “I know. I get it, believe me. But after last year and everything that…” she licked her lips and tried to hide a very obvious side glance at dad. “After everything that happened, I wonder if we made the right call. This job is going to give her a lot of extra responsibility. She only just stopped going to therapy and-”

“Whoa, whoa,” I said and someone inside me I didn’t recognize - someone angry and pissed off and full of something else I wasn’t ready to face - came bursting to life with a snap of her fingers at her own mother. “‘She’ is right here, thank you very much. And ‘she’ has a name. It’s Feyre. Now can someone tell me what the hell you guys are talking about?”

A round of looks was exchanged across the table every which way. Dad took a breath and leaned against his hands, now clasped in the air, eyes closed.

“Oh that’s wonderful,” mom said, grabbing her glass of cider from the table and staring daggers at my dad. “Fine, be silent. Let me handle the difficult stuff as usual.”

Elain blushed. I might have too if I didn’t suddenly want to burst into tears again. My ears were roaring with the sound of sirens. Broken glasses. And the start of a car engine as the front door slammed. It was as if every nerve in my body had frozen as the memories from the last year and a half came to surface.

My spirit went very quiet. I could feel the energy from earlier falling away, turning to smoke between my fingertips no matter how I struggled to catch it.

Had the work I’d put in meant nothing? Was mom just bullshitting me when she decided to come home and take care of us again? Was this entire night just one huge mistake?

“I just,” I said, stumbling for the words. I shut my eyes and counted the breath, counted until I found a will to keep the tears back. If mom thought I couldn’t handle life on my own, then I was hell-bent on proving her wrong. “I just want to understand what this agreement was that you all apparently made without me?”

I opened my eyes and looked at Nesta. Nesta who was annoyed beyond reason with me, but who had defended me and said I was strong enough.

But it was Elain who answered.

“After you graduated, we knew that you’d been through a lot. We  _ all  _ had,” and never had I so appreciated a collective ‘we’ from someone in the family. “Things were really different when Ness and I left high school. Mom and dad were apprehensive about you moving out without staying in school, but we,” and here she motioned to Nesta, “thought and still do think that you deserve to get out. That it would be good for you. That’s why we offered to have you move in with us.”

She smiled, but my heart sank.

I’d been so over the moon the day they’d asked if I wanted to stay in their apartment for the next academic year. I’d thought they’d wanted to spend more time with me. We hadn’t been super close growing up.

But now... They’d done it because they had to. To get mom and dad to agree to let me get out on my own.

I looked at Nesta and she wouldn’t hold my gaze. It was as good as confirmed then. Nesta never lied to me - not openly at least.

I sank back against my seat ready to let the dams burst. Screw mom. If I cried, I wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t let her tell me what I could and couldn’t do when she had so little faith in me to begin with. If were Mor were there, she’d tell me I deserved better than that.

Hell she had once - when I broke up with Tamlin.

“Well,” I said, feeling the redness burn through my cheeks and the familiar sting spring up behind my eyes. “That’s just absolutely wonderful to-”

_ Ding-dong! Ding-dong! _

“The fuck?”

“Nesta.” Mom got up and marched to the door. I leaned forward over the table just enough to watch her open it and caught nothing more than a glimpse of shocking red hair. My body tightened.

“Oh - oh no.” I’d completely forgotten I’d invited him over tonight.

“Who is that?” dad asked, turning in his chair to see who’d interrupted us all.

“Wait, is that…” I looked at Elain who was studying the door very carefully before her eyes were suddenly wide as moons. “What are  _ you _ doing here?”

Lucien peered around my mom at the loud call from my sister and I watched his skin turn a shade more scarlet than his own fire engine hair. “Eh-Elain? I mean - Ms. Archeron.”

Elain blushed furiously.

“You two know each other?” I asked, staring between them.

“Feyre!” Lucien said. “Oh joy.” He sounded anything but full of joy.

“Wait, how do  _ you two _ know each other?” Elain asked, but it was more an angry whisper directed just at me.

I furrowed my brow at her and didn’t hide my frustration. This night wasn’t going my way. “What do you mean how do we know each other? You remember Lucien. I’ve known him for years.”

“Feyre, I’m eight years older than you. I barely remember what cartoons you watched as a kid let alone who your friends in elementary school were.” This had to be a joke.

“But he… he was over all the time in middle and high school.” I threw my hands up and shrugged, utterly frustrated and I realized, exhausted. I was so tired and I’d only been here twenty minutes. I couldn’t do this anymore. Not if Elain, my very last lifeline of sanity, was suddenly against me. “You know what,” I said, standing up, “I don’t have time for this anymore. Lucien, just… upstairs.”

“Uh,” he breathed, looking between me and my mother who still stood firmly between us.

“Oh please,” I said.

Gingerly he took a step around her - luckily she didn’t protest - and followed me to the stairs. I led him up to my old attic bedroom ignoring Nesta as she announced that if I didn’t have to stay any longer, she didn’t either.

We climbed the short staircase into the attic, now empty save for a stack of four or five boxes, and I went straight for the window at the far end of the room. “Could you close the door, please?”

“Sure,” Lucien said. I heard it click shut as I leaned my head out into the cool night air. “Bad time?”

“The worst,” I said, shutting and opening my eyes to try to find some clarity. “In my defense, I’m not sure there’s ever a good time here. I was hoping...”

“This is incredible.”

“Ha,” I said, not very kindly, and swivelling around to sit on the windowsill ledge. “My family is far from incredible.” But Lucien wasn’t paying me a lick of attention. He was staring up at what little was still visible of the ceiling in the pale light from overheard.

Even if I wasn’t going to live here anymore, I had refused to paint over my ceiling. The artwork I’d left there last winter - all those stars and galaxies, all that night - it meant too much to me to get rid of. The night was where I’d met Rhys, where I’d fled when nowhere else was safe. Painting over it felt like it would erase who I was. I couldn’t do that.

“Did you paint this?”

I sighed and looked up. “Yeah, I did. Last year. I was having a bit of a… an episode with my family.”

“No kidding,” Lucien said. “Your family is almost as fucked up as mine.”

I doubted that, but didn’t have the heart to say so as Lucien strode up to a patch of my painting that was low enough to touch and ran his slim, delicate fingers over a little blue and white blur of stars.

“These the boxes you need to move?” I nodded. “You wanna get the fuck out of here? I’m guessing I can’t stay for dinner.”

“Oh my gosh, yes please. Let’s just go before my parents start throwing things at each other.”

Lucien picked up the two larger boxes while I gathered the smaller ones. “You know,” Lucien said, “I thought you wanted to be friends.”

“I did. I  _ do _ .”

He made a tisking noise. “Friends don’t invite friends over for dinner without feeding them. I expected better of you, Feyre.” He sounded completely serious.

I narrowed my eyes, but took the bait all the same. Lucien was a challenge I knew how to handle. “Who said I wasn’t going to feed you? The night is young, Lukey. And there’s an In n’ Out two miles away.”

“You’re paying.”

* * *

_ Nesta - Sweetheart. Goddess Divine. Russian Queen of Sky and Sea, _

_ Camp has improved dramatically since the last time I wrote you. Some asshole in my unit tried to give me the one-two about the fiasco with my boots, so I challenged him to a round on the spot for his boots and I KICKED HIS ASS HONEY. _

_ He was too stupid to quit there. Got one of his buddies to show me up, but I took his boots too and his shirt. I’ve got quite the collection of clothes piling up now. It’s gonna be hard to keep the space neat enough to pass inspections, but it’s worth it. If it gets these monkeys off my back and proves my worth, I’ll take it. _

_ My commanding officer made me work in the toilets scrubbing tile all afternoon for fighting, but I swear it was a reward in his eyes. By the end of the term, I’m gonna be tops in the class just like you always were. _

_ I hope you’re okay. I hope you’ll be proud. _

_ Your last letter was short, but that’s okay. _

_ Beregi sebya, moya lyubov _

_ Yours, _

_ Cassian _

* * *

_ Cassian - _

_ My apologies for the briefness of my last letter. You deserve more than that and yes, I’m very proud of you. But you should know by now you never had to earn that badge from me. _

_ Nesta _

_ Enough with the nicknames, okay? It’s getting frivolous. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre and Rhys get steamy on the phone before being hilariously interrupted. Revelations about the nature of Lucien and Elain's relationship surface over a lunch date. And fall season gets fully underway, and despite amusing Saturday conversations with Rhys, Feyre finds herself increasingly alone and unsure how to handle the distance from her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bitch to put together. I apologize in advance. Also, things from here on out are gonna get depressing AF and I'm sorry it's probably gonna keep taking me a while to update. Double also, people in long distance relationships do crazy things to keep in touch... *NSFW* incoming! :P

“Lucien? Lucien Vanserra?”

“Mhm.” I felt all warm inside knowing I could picture Rhys’s exact expression in my head just by the amused interest in his voice. Now if only I could actually see said expression, we’d be good to go.

“How did that happen?”

How  _ did _ that happen? I was still asking myself that very question now that I’d had a night to sleep off my embarrassment of completely forgetting I’d invited Lucien -  _ Lucien of all people _ \- over for dinner.

Lucien who I could barely begin to call a friend after knowing him for four years.

“I sort of, kind of, maybe accidentally forgot that I invited him to my house. Remember I ran into him at that cafe last week?”

A muffled sound came through the phone before Rhys muttered, “Yeah.” I scowled. The screen was still dark and I didn’t understand the noises coming from the other end.

“Well he actually showed up and my family was fighting and…” My chest deflated remembering how the pair of us had stormed out past my parents only stopping long enough to let Nesta and Elain know they needn’t be bothered about driving me back home. So much for a last family dinner. “It was awful.”

“I’m sorry, Feyre - really,” Rhys said. A minor crash in the background I couldn’t make out had me shuddering back from the spot on my bed where I was sitting. “At least Lucien turned up. He can be handy when he wants to be.”

That had my focus shifting in a hurry. “Oh? You know this from experience?”

Another crash, this time smaller, and Rhys groaned. “Damn straps.”

“Rhys,” I sighed. “Can you just turn the video on finally?”

“I don’t want to. Not yet.”

I bit my lip. “Come on. Just show me! I haven’t seen you in ages-”

“It’s been two weeks, darling. That’s hardly an age, though don’t think I’m not touched.”

Again, I could picture his face. But my amusement was short lived. He was right. It had only been two weeks. But I felt like we’d been separated since graduation, when the idea of everyone moving away had started sinking in.

The only worse feeling was that maybe these two weeks weren’t affecting anyone else nearly as much as they were affecting me. And that scared me a lot more than I was willing to admit.

“Rhys, just turn the video on, please. It can’t be  _ that _ bad.”

“That’s because… you haven’t seen it yet.” His voice was rather clipped, I had to still my breathing to keep from laughing at him. This was going to be good.

“Please?” I said sweetly, exaggerating the word out.

There was a sigh and then, roughly ten seconds later, the FaceTime video clicked on and I instantly gasped.

Rhys stood back from the camera so that it caught him from about his shins up. A white cloth draped from one shoulder across his chest to where it fastened at a skirt with a gold medallion looking pin.

“Oh… my…”

“Please don’t, Feyre,” Rhys said pinching the bridge of his nose. I clapped my hands over my mouth, mostly so the grin splitting my face in two wouldn’t be  _ too _ apparent.

“Is that a  _ toga?! _ ”

“I’m going to KILL, Helion for this.”

Finally, I laughed. “No, no, please don’t. If anything, you must thank him for me. Oh my gosh, are there shoes?!”

With a roll of his eyes, Rhys tilted the phone down and whether he meant to or not, his toes gave a little flex between the straps of what were a better pair of gladiator sandals than anything I’d ever owned. Mor would have been jealous.

“No!” I shouted.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

I snickered, but couldn’t help continuing to pour myself over the toga. Rhys’s cheeks burned red. I’d never seen him so openly flustered before. This roomate of his really had him scrambling to keep up.

“Oh stop crying, it really isn’t that bad.”

“It will be once Helion adds the crown."

“There’s a laurel wreath!?” I stopped myself from going further as Rhys’s expression once again began to crumple. “How interesting,” I concluded as blandly as possible.

Finally a small piece of his usual amusement bit the corners of his lips and he sat down in his chair just in front of where he’d propped the phone up on his desk. “You know,” he said, leaning unceremoniously onto his arms and palms, “if I could flick you on the nose right about now, I would.”

“Oh I know,” I giggled. “I’m sure you’d be doing a lot of things if you were here.”

My heart gave a faint twinge, hating myself for the unwelcome reminder of the distance. But Rhys’s eyes had begun to twinkle putting me on alert.

“Well you know, Feyre…” he said, his voice taking on that smooth, velvety quality he used when he  _ really  _ wanted something, usually me. “Just because you’re there and I’m here doesn’t mean we can’t… have some fun, if you know what I mean.”

He winked. Suddenly, his cheeks weren’t the only ones turning scarlet.

I sat up straight and tried to keep a level tone, lest he win too easily. I was getting better at baiting him the longer we went on together and now to let him get the better of me right away was almost unbearable. Though Rhys usually made up for it pretty quickly in situations like these.

“I don’t know what you’re suggesting,” I said cooly, feigning disinterest. “And as you can see,” I quickly picked up my sketch pad from my nightstand where I’d left a layout of the potential cocktail bar decorations for work half-finished when Rhys had called, “I’m rather busy.”

“Mhm,” Rhys said and I didn’t miss how his tongue flicked out and quickly grazed his lips. “Do tell, Feyre. Just how  _ busy _ with that hand of yours are you?”

His eyelids grew heavier in that way that made his gaze intensify. I hated the band of tension coiling across my stomach the longer I stared. My body was a freaking  _ traitor _ .

“Uhm,” I coughed, “Just a touch busy.”

“Just a touch, hmm?” Rhys smirked. “With the sketching.” He nodded casually. Why was this always so easy for him, the prick?

“Yep! With the  _ sketching _ .”

“Perhaps you need a new subject to study,” was his only reply before he pushed his foot against the desk and leaned backward in his chair. His skirt slid down his upraised leg exposing his thigh just up to where his crotch was, but not so far as to be grotesque. And his arms - those blessed, sculpted arms that held me and touched me in all the most delicious ways - went back to cradle his head. His biceps flexed with the movement and I found my knees clenching together, among other things, as I took in the lines of muscle.

“Rhys, I-”

“Take off your shirt, Feyre.”

My jaw fell down at the cool command in his voice. No questions. No indecision. Just pure desire flooding through my tiny phone screen.

All at once that band of heat across my stomach snapped at me sharp and wonderful and burning.

_ Traitor, traitor, traitor _ .

I held up a finger, scowling, and Rhys’s delicious grin spread like wildfire.

Elain wasn’t home, but Nesta was. And while last I’d checked she was napping in her room for a quick study break, I wasn’t taking any chances. I plugged my headphones in and realized it would be a lot tougher removing my top with them hooked up, so making sure Rhys couldn’t see, I got rid of my shirt before bringing him back online.

But just as I went for the phone, I stilled.

“Um, Rhys?”

“Yes?”

“I’m - uh. I’m kind of nervous.”

There was a pause and through the headphones, I could hear his chair hit the floor back in place. “You know we don’t have to do this, right?” he said. “I hope - oh shit, Feyre I hope you don’t think I’m completely disgusting.”

I snorted. “You’re always disgusting.”

“Really,” he said and was completely serious. “I just thought it might be kind of fun to try something new now that we can’t… in person for a while. But it’s totally your call. If this is too weird, I’ll stop.”

There was a nervousness to the way he said it all. Not just in thinking maybe he’d crossed a line somewhere, but also in the way he’d hesitated.

That’s when I knew he felt it too. That  _ sting _ . The one the distance brought to surface. I just hoped it wouldn’t worsen over time.

Even if it did, I’d be damned if I let it stop me from enjoying myself. What the hell, right?

With a rush of force, I snatched a pillow from behind me and propped the phone up against it in front of me. Rhys’s brow quirked when he caught sight of me already topless and then quickly stumbled as he watched me stare him down.

One strap went down.

And then the other.

And then the clasp of my bra came undone. Rhys leaned back once more in the chair and I let my body smulder in the flames licking me up and down as I saw a noticeable bulge taking shape between his legs, visible even on my small phone screen. 

“Feyre-” Rhys breathed as the bra came away and I was left completely exposed. The look he gave me was searing, as if he’d never seen me like this before. Slowly, his hand dipped into the band at his waist and moved down to grasp himself.

Heat shot me through like a bullet. I had no idea the thought of Rhys getting off to watching me when he physically couldn’t touch me would be such a turn on. I had no idea that I’d ever want to take my clothes off on a phone screen and touch myself. I had no idea about any of this including what exactly came next, but here we were.

I looked down, trying to hide my blush. Some of my hair fell across my face. I ran my hand through it to push the locks back and just the mere tips of it brushing against my nipples had Rhys’s hand starting to move down his length.

Giggling, I watched him stroke. His eyes blazed so brightly I could practically feel the heat from the screen.. “Keep going,” he said, his voice low and breathy. Feyre, keep-”

“It’s TOGA TIME!”

I screamed right as Helion’s eyes caught mine in the background and went wide with mischief. My phone flew into the air as I jerked forward on the bed trying desperately to end the call.

“What the HELL?!”

_ Oh fuck _ .

I heard Nesta’s door open with a bang, her footsteps trampling across the short hallway to my room, but it was too little time to yank my shirt back on. I dove forward, my phone lost somewhere between the pillow and what I was keenly aware was my very, very naked chest, and tried to grab my shirt anyway. It was, as expected, futile.

The door flew open and I buried my head into the pillow, a headphone yanking out of my ear with a sharp tug. I heard Rhys shouting something at his roomate as it fell away.

“Are you  _ shitting _ me right now?” Nesta said. I had only enough nerve to lift my head and peak out from the rim of the pillow. “What are you-”

She stopped abruptly and I swore I could hear the blood pounding in my ears as I waited for her to say something. Nesta’s eyes danced from my bare back, my crumpled shirt, and what I could only assume was my phone and headphones peeking out from the edge of the pillow. My fingers slid under the fabric and sure enough, my phone was there.  _ Damn it _ .

Nesta blushed - actually blushed. And then she stammered, something I’d never heard her do before.

“Well,” she said and then she left, the door shutting with a careless slam behind her.

My body broke out in goosebumps as I registered the chill in the air now that no apparent commotion seemed to be happening. And then, when I was sure Nesta wasn’t coming back to rip me a new one, I pitched myself back into the pillow and let it drown out the noise of my laughter.

_ What the actual fuck did I just…. holy! _

Chest heaving, arms shaking, the bellows poured out of me. I felt like an  _ idiot _ . I really was an idiot, I thought, shrugging my shirt back on. But for a few minutes, I’d had  _ fun _ . I’d had Rhys, and knowing that somewhere in the world he was sitting completely flustered while his roommate laughed at him for jacking off  _ in a toga _ while I got naked on his phone made me endlessly happy.

And still just the tiniest bit turned on too.

Mental note to explore public indecency with my boyfriend at a later date set aside, I scrambled for my phone, almost losing it again in my excitement, to find that the call had in fact been ended at some point during the hubbub. In its place, Rhys had sent me about a dozen texts.

_ Rhys: I’m SO SORRY. _

_ Rhys: Feyre, I swear I didn’t know he was coming back so soon. _

_ Rhys: HE TOLD ME IT WOULD BE A WHILE. _

_ Rhys: I’m getting a single dorm next year. I swear it will never happen again. _

_ Rhys: I AM GOING TO KILL HIM. _

_ Rhys: Are you okay?????? _

The frantic energy behind his texts, usually so composed, had me giggling anew. I found myself moving my hips back and forth against the sheets as I read through them all. Damn, I wanted him.

“Feyre?”

Rhys picked up on the first ring.

“Feyre, are you okay?”

I steadied myself so I wouldn’t break and told him in all seriousness, “Well that was interesting.”

Rhys swore.

“Oh calm down, I’m fine! I’m only joking.”

“It’s not funny, Feyre.”

“It kind of totally is.”

“It is not!”

“What are we five?”

A door closed and I assumed he’d left his room, or kicked Helion out of it. “How are you not freaking out about this?”

I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. “I don’t know. It’s just kind of exciting I guess. It feels like an adventure.”

Rhys sighed and echoed some of my earlier laughter. “I love you, you know,” Rhys said. “And I wish you were here so we could finish what we started.”

My stomach coiled again, wanting, wanting, wanting.

“I’ve got the time if you do…” I purred.

“That’s just it, I’ve only gotten away long enough to make sure you’re okay. Helion says we have to leave for the party in five and he wants help with the drinks.”

“Bummer.” I fell against my bed. “I assume you’ll be back too late for me to wait up?”

“Unfortunately with Helion, that seems the likely guess. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, even though some small, delicate part of me wished he weren’t going out to do something fun. The same part of me that wished even more that I’d had the guts to find a way to join him at school. “You deserve to go out, have some fun. You’re supposed to do this sort of stuff.”

“And what will you do while I’m gone?”

Me? I didn’t want to be one of those girls who sat around pining for her boyfriend all day, jealous that other people had his attention. But I also didn’t have any plans and working felt like a waste of a Saturday night.

“I don’t know. Lucien and I didn’t actually get to chat much yesterday, but he bailed last minute on hanging out today. Who the hell has office hours on a Saturday?”

“It’s not that weird, is it? You said Elain had some office hours this morning, right?”

“Yes, but that’s-”

“What?”

“Oh my gosh,” I said, realization striking me over the head. I felt like bursting out laughing all over again. How had I not put two-and-two together already?

“Oh my gosh, what?” Rhys asked. “Feyre?”

“I’ll tell you later. Just go to your party. Have  _ fun _ . I can call you about it all tomorrow?”

Rhys agreed and we hung up. I fell let my mind wander a little over how I wanted to approach things with Lucien before texting him to let him know that we’d be seeing each other tomorrow, no bailing allowed.

And then… that was it, I realized. Silence enveloped me, the apartment once again quiet.

Part of me was still burning, tempted to reach my hand below my waistline and deal with some of Rhys and my’s unfinished business. A few brief strokes over my leggings, though, had me uninterested. The moment had passed.

Rhys was gone again.

Lucien was busy with whatever.

And there was no way I was going to go chat with Nesta after she’d walked in on me.

I grabbed my sketchpad, let the charcoal pencil hang between my fingers a few beats before dropping it down. I closed my eyes and watch the numbers that had been so high only minutes before tick down a notch until my brain recognized the stale, lonely feeling of watching the world slip between my fingers, and went to sleep. I wondered when exactly I’d reached the point of being able to go that high and fall that fast in a matter of minutes right before my mind shut off.

* * *

 

When Lucien pulled up in front of my apartment early Sunday morning, I was full of renewed vigor. Giddy, I pulled the car door wide open and half-shouted, “She’s your TA, isn’t she?”

Lucien’s mouth was a hard line. “Get in the car, Feyre, or you can find your own way to the Getty.”

I cackled and hopped in the front seat. Lucien took off without a word.

The Getty was one of my favorite places to visit in LA. While it was definitely one of the more popular art galleries to visit next to LACMA, I couldn’t blame anyone for feeling it was worth the touristy trip.

The tram that took us from the parking lot up the LA hillside toward the museum entrance offered a spectacular shot of LA that was positively postcard worthy. And with the clear skies September in SoCal offered us, the view was absolutely stunning. I made a note as we got off the tram and headed toward the museum cafe to make sure to drag Lucien through my favorite galleries on the backside of the site where the balconies only furthered the beautiful scenery riddled with hills and skyscrapers.

Whoever thought LA was an ugly place had never really gotten the right perspective on it.

Nestling into the iron cast seat at our chosen lunch table, iced tea and a turkey BLT in tow, I looked up at the sky soaking in as much of the glorious sun and heat raining down on me and simply breathed.

“Glad to be out, are we?” Lucien was already pulling his books and paperwork from his backpack. Straight to business then.

“Ooh, Botany!” I said, snatching up his intro-level book before he could stop me, the same one I’d seen him with in the cafe when I should have realized that - duh, Elain might be his TA for the quarter. “How very fascinating!”

“Stop acting like a child,” Lucien said, taking the book back. “I don’t see why you’re so concerned about it anyway.”

I leaned back in the chair, propping my feet up on the adjacent seat, thoroughly enjoying myself. I’d missed this - whatever this was. “Please,” I said. “You know why it’s interesting.” Lucien arched a brow in question. I smirked, my slimiest, smuggest smirk that would have made even Rhys jealous. “You  _ like _ her.”

“Excuse me!”

“Haha, see! That right there. You like my sister.” Lucien’s skin darkened. “Why else would it have been such a crisis you two knowing each other at dinner the other night.”

“Well,” Lucien said, clearing his throat and attempting to get his books in order. “It was a bit of a scene, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“About that, I wanted to apologize.”

“If you’re going to try to convince me that’s the real reason you dragged me out here today, you’ll forgive me if I have a hard time believing you.”

“No really, it is!” Lucien gave me no more than a disbelieving  _ hmpf _ . “I thought we could try this friend thing out. For real. Friends actually do stuff together, you know. Like talk about life, family, school…  _ crushes _ .”

Lucien picked the botany book up and his grip on the edges went tight with redness. “Do you absolutely have to-”

“Yes,” I said, grinning.

Lucien took a steadying breath and righted himself.

“You can drink your precious Pelligrino if it’ll help you stall,” I offered with a cool shrug.

“Fine,” Lucien said. He popped a grape in his mouth from the side order of fruit that came with his salad and sat up very studiously. “Your sister-”

“Elain. Her name is Elain. You can say it now and then if you want, it won’t summon her to your side out of thin air or anything.”

“For fuck’s sake, you really aren’t going to make this easy are you?” I shook my head. “ _ Elain _ , in addition to being my teaching assistant, which I consider to be an entirely professional relationship, I admit is also… rather attractive.”

And with that he popped several more grapes into his mouth with his delicate, bony fingers. “Was that really so hard?” I asked, daring to chuckle a little.

The long braid of his flaming hair went flying over his shoulder as if he were some snotty high school girl too good for this. “Yes, and if you don’t mind, we needn’t chat about it further. As previously pointed out, she is my instructor. I am a  _ student _ . And she’s much older than I, so clearly nothing can come of it.”

I shook my head back and forth, chewing on a fry as I let the silence stretch on. There was something about watching Lucien squirm after all the years I’d felt awkward and out of place around him that was particularly satisfying.

“What,” he asked me finally, an edge of nervousness to his voice.

“You’re so formal all the time,” I replied. “‘ _ We needn’t chat about it further… Elain is rather attractive… As previously pointed out… _ ’ Great scott, man!” And I let my voice boom out much to his horror. “No wonder she likes you so much.”

“I don’t think that’s-” Lucien bit off whatever he was going to say next and looked at me sharply. I could see his chest seize in a fresh wave of panic. “What do you mean she likes me?” I giggled, but kept my mouth shut, after shoving more fries in of course. “Feyre?!”

“You should start studying,” I said when I was done chewing. I motioned toward his books and began pulling my own work for the gallery out. Alis was starting me in on the new job officially come Monday morning and the first task was straightening out capacity and how best to arrange the gallery to accommodate it. I had hoped our little trip to the Getty might help me get a leg up on things.

“But-”

“Sh, sh! If you’re a good little boy, Lukey, and get all your work done, I’ll take you on a tour and maybe - just maybe - if you behave, I’ll tell you all about your precious Elain.”

I flipped open my notes and found the spot I’d left on, but it wasn’t long until I looked up and saw that Lucien hadn’t stopped gawking at me. “What?” I asked.

“You don’t… mind?” I offered him a confused, questioning shrug. “That I... “ he swallowed, “like her?”

My head tilted to one side. Things didn’t feel quite so silly anymore. “Why would I mind? Cassian’s dating Nesta and that’s not… nearly as weird I once thought it would be. So you like Elain. Who doesn’t, honestly?” Lucien’s gaze thoughtfully drifted down to his book, but his mind was anywhere but with the pages inked before him. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“Liar.”

“Leave it, Feyre. You’re not the only one with secrets.”

It was so sharp and final compared to his previous comments that I did leave it, and went back to my notes wondering what in the world Lucien Vanserra was keeping secrets about and why liking Elain had anything to do with it.

* * *

As it turned out, I didn’t call Rhys to find out what happened at Helion’s frat party. When I woke up, he was still sleeping off a massive hangover, and by the time I had gotten back from my day at the Getty with Lucien, he was deep into studying for a midterm.

I asked him what kind of professor had midterms going into the third week of the semester and he merely texted back, “The ones from hell.”

We didn’t talk much outside of text messages for the entire rest of the week. Or the next. Or the one after that. Before I knew it, October was flying by and the most substantial thing Rhys and I had beyond texts and Snaps of campus squirrels were our morning phone calls every Saturday morning.

I craved those calls more and more as I threw myself into work, which was becoming harder day by day. But Alis remained confident in my abilities and each new test that I passed with flying colors helped me stay steadfast too. It was a great distraction, rewarding, fulfilling. And yet…

When I came home and found Elain grading papers and Nesta locked in her room reading and writing nothing but Russian authors I’d never heard of, I found myself alone in my own room. A lot of nights they weren’t even around. Nesta claimed the office was more ‘zen’ for zoning out in when she needed to concentrate, and when Elain wasn’t in a frenzy over impressing her professors during her first quarter of teaching, she was out with the other students from her botany cohort.

At some point, Elain had even started dating one of her cohort members, so there was hardly time to tease her about Lucien. I’d been certain from  _ her _ reaction over dinner that she was maybe a little smitten with him, however inappropriate Lucien may have claimed that would be, but apparently I’d been wrong.

_ Lucien _ .

Our trip to the Getty seemed to be the first and last attempt at the friend thing we were gonna get. I texted him more often than I would have liked to admit during our weeks following that visit hoping we could just hangout, but even when I knew he was caught up on course work, he claimed he was busy. Eventually, I stopped asking to meet up.

Which just left Mor, but even she seemed to mysteriously disappear into her studies. We’d text here and there, but phone time had grown increasingly spotty.

Everyone was just… busy.

Is this what adulthood was? I asked myself constantly if it was normal to feel so alone while everyone else around me simply… wasn’t. My arms were full of people and places and things to be doing, but my brain wasn’t registering any of it even when my phone buzzed at me all day and all night with messages.

I left work the week before Halloween only to feel my phone alerting me to such a message. Hopping on the bus, I found Rhys’s familiar after-work text waiting.

_ Rhys: Freedom, darling. How was your day? _

_ Feyre: Better, now that you’re in it. _

_ Rhys: Number? _

I smiled.

_ Feyre: Maybe like an 8? _

_ Rhys: Ooh, that’s a good day! _

I neglected to tell him that it was really only feeling that way because I’d gotten his text. After a day at the gallery with both Alis and Lena out sick and a mountain of RSVP’s to sort through on my own, I was drained mentally and emotionally.

Though I wasn’t without a sense of accomplishment and that had to count for something.

_ Rhys: What are you doing Saturday? _

_ Feyre: Talking to you, I hope. _

_ Rhys: Of course, but what about after that? _

_ Feyre: Nothing. It’s Halloween. _

_ Rhys: Good. Don’t make plans okay? I’m sending you a surprise instead that will likely take up the majority of your evening. _

A surprise? On Halloween?

Warmth spread through me. Rhys was thinking of me. Thinking ahead. Thinking of the  _ future _ . In some small way.

It probably sounded dumb to anyone else, but despite the shit day, this small, insignificant text meant the entire world to me. I read it over five times trying to figure out what to say before Rhys was texting me again to make sure I’d gotten his message okay.

_ Feyre: Yeah I did. But a surprise?! What are you talking about? WHAT ARE YOU UP TO?! _

_ Rhys: All in good time, darling. I imagine you’ll find out Saturday. ;) _

Beaming. I was absolutely beaming.

In the midst of wondering what kind of surprise I’d be getting, I realized I’d have to tell dad I couldn’t hand out candy with him. But for once I didn’t mind so much that I wouldn’t be seeing him.

Now that family dinners were off, I made it a point to stop by the house at least once a week and see how dad was doing. I made my best effort to avoid mom and Nesta in the process. Mom had been back on friendly terms with me now that she’d seen I was doing okay at work, but I didn’t want her or Nesta thinking I was trying to play caretaker again with dad.

And I  _ wasn’t _ . But as much as it hurt to admit, I didn’t trust mom to care enough anymore to look after him.

I put my phone away and sank into the bus seat.

Maybe she did care. Sometimes I wondered if that was enough. Rhys and I cared about each other. But neither of us made ourselves responsible for the other. We were there because we  _ wanted _ to be. Sometimes I looked at mom and a part of me knew that she was too broken to want to be there anymore, that maybe I was too young and missed too much growing up to see what actually caused the cracks in their marriage that had always made me so angry.

So I went. Every week. And watched dad waste away on his own.

He wasn’t drinking anymore, but I could tell. I could see how his eyes would spark briefly when I walked in the door before flitting out again.

Some days I would stay just for an hour, work as my excuse to jet off when I felt too sad to stay, too small to stand next to someone I loved who was hardly recognizable from the dad I knew growing up.

And other days, I would stay until late in the evening after the buses stopped running and I had to either bug Elain to come get me or drag blankets and pillows up to the attic to stay the night. Those nights were the ones where dad still wanted to make smores and hear about what I was doing at the gallery and watch old reruns of Seinfeld together and even mom would sit and watch a few with us.

Those nights were rare. But they were. And that had to be enough for now. So much, I thought, that had to be enough.

Until he recovered enough at least to stand back up on his own two feet. I dreaded the idea that he and mom were gonna split again. Technically they were never really back together. But you could feel the tension between them, less of an anger and more of mourning.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, counting until I reached five inhales and five exhales.

Rhys was sending me a surprise this weekend. And whatever it was, the thought carried me the rest of the way home as the demons chased after:  _ In five days, I will not be alone _ .


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys's Halloween surprise fails, so Feyre tries to rectify matters only to run into disastrous problems.

I took a long, hot shower Friday night after work. For five full minutes alone, I worked my neck and shoulder muscles enjoying how the tension melted away under the pressure and steam.

I still didn’t know what Rhys’s little Halloween surprise tomorrow was, but I was excited. And while I hadn’t dared admit to him yet, my hopes were unreasonably high that it would be more than a simple gift in the mail.

Whatever it was, I knew one thing absolutely for sure: I needed what was coming.

I found Elain afterwards sitting at the coffee table in our living room, grading papers and eating a late dinner. I couldn’t help but wonder if Lucien’s paper was the one she graded. “Nice shower?” she asked, making meticulous marks in red ink on her current stack.

“Mhm,” I replied in a bit of a dream-like fog. I flipped forward and let my hair out of the towel, shaking and combing it out as I went. It always tangled something horrible when I washed it, but I wanted it to look nice for tomorrow. Just in case.

“Your phone went off not to long ago, by the way,” Elain said. She jerked a paper at the couch where I’d left it. I fell against the cushions with a hop and a giggle, tossing my towel aside and letting my wet hair cling to my face and neck. “Wow, someone’s perky.”

“Yeah, well, I just…” The air went out of me as my smile unleashed itself, unwilling to hide. I really was feeling perky. Perky and awake and full to the brim with hope. It smacked me upside down as I grabbed my phone and smiled at Elain. She would grade all weekend and Nesta would do… whatever Nesta was going to do. Lucien would likely be off on another study session, party of one. But I would have Rhys.

Or so I was hoping.

Elain nodded, understanding there weren’t any words. “Ah, young love,” she offered and went straight back to grading.

My stomach fluttered as I lit my lock screen and caught a preview notification for a text. This really was a great feeling.

“I’m gonna get some lemonade,” Elain said, abruptly standing just as Mor’s text came through on the screen. She waited until she reached the kitchen to ask if I wanted any, but I was too distracted by Mor’s text to reply.

_ Mor: I’m sorry about tomorrow. :( _

“Feyre?” Elain came back to stand by me. “Did you want any?”

“Sure. Why not.” If Elain noticed my sudden drop in mood, she didn’t comment. My fingers flew over the keys to send a reply back. 9:30pm. She’d sent this right when I’d gotten in the shower. It’d been 40 minutes already.

_ Feyre: What about tomorrow? Are you okay? Is everything alright? _

My heart pounded furiously knowing I was turning the message clearing directed at me around on her, but I couldn’t help it. Deep breaths. I just needed a few deep breaths and everything would be-

_ Mor: About Rhys? How his dad isn’t letting him visit for the weekend anymore. _

_ Mor: Holy fuck, wait you knew about that right? I know it was a surprise, but he told you what happened? PLEASE TELL ME HE TOLD YOU WHAT HAPPENED. _

The little dotted bubble popping up that told me Mor was typing another response, but my body had gone numb, paralyzed to reply.

He was going to visit. He really was coming. Or he was until...

_ Mor: Feyre, I am so SO sorry oh my gosh you have to know I thought you knew. Shit, I am a terrible friend. Are you still there?? _

_ Feyre: I don’t understand. What do you mean his dad won’t let him come? _

It felt like I couldn’t breath. Everything in the room was suddenly far, far too hot.

“Here’s your lemonade - oh, Feyre.” Slowly, I looked up to see Elain standing again at my side with two glasses of lemonade, but she looked like she’d just seen a ghost. “Are you… um, okay?”

That’s when I felt the wetness staining my face. What I must have looked like to her then face a mess, hair wet and sticking every which way, holding my phone like a grenade with the pin pulled.

He was supposed to come. I _ knew _ it. I just hadn’t wanted to admit my suspicion out loud because if I did and it fell through… if it… if he didn’t…  _ Rhys… _

“Oh no, no don’t cry  _ more _ .” Elain stammered through every word as my phone continued to buzz with fresh texts. She wasn’t good with people getting emotional. Still, she set the glasses down and managed to give me some tissues from the coffee table. “Um, do you want to talk about it?”

A weight slammed down in my gut.  _ No _ , I definitely did not want to talk about it. Not until I knew more at least. Suddenly, I couldn’t stand Elain being so close.

“Can you, ugh, get me some aspirin maybe? With-” I eyed the lemonade and cringed. “Water?”

Elain’s eyes grew to the size of two full moons. “Of course. I’ll be right back!”

My head really was starting to pound as I went back to Mor’s texts and realized, it wasn’t going to get any better from here.

_ Mor: Rhys was going to fly out for the weekend to stay with you. I don’t know everything, but I know it’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other and it sounds like you both have had a lot going on. I think he wanted it to be a nice break for you both. _

_ Mor: But his dad found out this morning about his midterm grades and blew up at him. _

_ Mor: He went ballistic! Rhys called me after and was fuming. I don’t think they’re seeing eye-to-eye much right now, but you know that already. Basically his dad told him he can’t come home until his grades are back up. He needs to study. _

_ Mor: I’m surprised he didn’t tell you?? _

_ Mor: Are you still there??? Did I ruin everything? Fuck I ruined everything didn’t I? _

The honest truth was, no she hadn’t ruined everything. Mor had actually been something of a savior just then.

In reality, I wasn’t sure if it was Rhys’s dad who had ruined everything or Rhys himself.

We’ve “both” had a lot on our plates lately? Rhys needed to get his grades back up? Did he not do well on his midterms, the ones he’d told me had been a breeze? And apparently I was supposed to already know about all of this? Mor certainly thought I did.

I glance outside and my heart sank. It was well past sundown, Elain’s plants on the balcony barely visible in the darkness of night. I had planned on going to bed soon in hopes that it would bring tomorrow about faster. Mor said her uncle blew up at Rhys this  _ morning _ , so why the fuck hadn’t he called? Texted? Something?

“What happened?”

I jolted in my seat, unprepared for Nesta’s to find me in such a state. Was Elain really so uncomfortable with me that she had asked Nesta to come instead?

Elain sat on the edge of the couch armrest and kindly handed me the aspirin and water I’d asked for. I felt completely embarrassed as I swallowed the pills. People have way worse things going on in the world and here I was sobbing because my boyfriend couldn’t come out for the weekend.

Never mind that I hadn’t seen him in months.

“Rhys is, um-”

“Speak up, you’re mumbling.”

I swallowed as Nesta’s stare pierced me with guilt. She’d probably been in the middle of studying or reading or writing or just Russian-ing the night away. Again, humiliation drowned me. Bitchy or not, her degree was important. It could lead to big things. And I was worried about one person not catching a flight.

_ Just the one person who matters… _

I shook it off and swallowed dryly. “Rhys was going to come visit tomorrow. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I’d sort of been looking forward to it all week. We haven’t seen each other in…” I took a deep breath, willing my voice not to crack. Nesta didn’t so much as flinch. “But his dad won’t let him fly out, so that’s that. I’m sorry, Ness.”

“Sorry?” She crossed her arms and scowled. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

“You were studying or-”

“Please,” she said and rolled her eyes. “I don’t see what the big deal is. So he can’t fly here for the weekend. So his dad’s a prick. Why don’t you just shove it to both of them and fly out there.”

“I - wait, wait, wait, what?”

Nesta gave a casual shrug. “Go to New York.”

“Ooh!” Elain squealed. “I like that! You should do it. You should go.”

I stared, completely dumbfounded at both of them. “But, I…”

“You what? You work, don’t you? You have money saved up, I know you do. You never buy a damn thing except art supplies and don’t try to tell me they’re expensive. The gallery cuts you a major discount from their wholesale stock for working there, so it’s not like you can’t afford the ticket.”

Now my head really did hurt. Pain bloomed behind my eyes in horrible, sharp waves, but at the same time… the ache that had taken over my heart was quieting. This might actually work.

“Come on,” Nesta said, motioning me up with two fingers. “You can use my laptop. I’ll drive you in the morning to the airport.” Even Elain seemed pleasantly surprised by Nesta’s offer. She wasn’t usually so… accommodating.

“Really?” I said, standing up. She was already walking away.

“Really, really,” she called. Elain looked at me and smiled. In less than twelve or so hours, I would be seeing that same smile on someone else’s face.

Grades, dads, and work be damned. I was gonna see Rhys this weekend even if it killed me.

I grabbed my phone and texted Mor ignoring the slew of messages she’d sent over the past several minutes.

_ Feyre: Mor - I’m going to New York. _

_ Mor: <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3  _

* * *

I slept the entire flight to New York, a stark contrast from the late hours of the night prepping for the trip. But my sisters and I had agreed an early morning flight - 5:00am to be exact - would be best so I could maximize the amount of time I had in the city. I still had to be back at work Monday morning, so I couldn’t be gone more than the weekend.

But two days would be more than enough. At least, I tried to convince myself they would. I was already dreading how painful the goodbyes would be.

I quickly realized that New York was not my kind of city. Whereas LA was just busy, New York was complicated. I could tell just from reaching our terminal and seeing the maze of airport and buildings in the distance that I could easily be overwhelmed in a place like this. It brought me back to feeling wide awake. He was close by in all those buildings.

_ Rhys, I’m coming _ .

I waited until I’d gotten off the plane to pull myself to the first not-crowded area I could find to check my phone. How people could text and deal with chaos at the same time was beyond me.

Unlocking the screen, I went to text Rhys only to find that he’d already texted me. Nearly five and a half hours ago shortly after my plane had taken off.

_ Rhys: Call me _ .

That was it. His first text in hours since his dad had shut him down.

I couldn’t help it. Part of me was angry. He still hadn’t filled me in on what had happened. Even worse, it sounded from what Mor had said that he’d been lying to me about NYU. And now all he had to say was  _ call me _ ?

With the time difference, it was already pushing two o’clock. Halloween parties would kick off soon and I’d missed enough time as it was.

Fuck calling him. I was getting my ass down to NYU pronto so I could first scream at him, and then smother him until we’d spent a good portion of the evening with our tongues in each other’s mouths.

“NYU dorms, please,” I told the cab driver.

“First time in the city?” he asked with a thick accent I hardly caught wind of.

“Uh, yeah,” I admitted, getting my carry-on backpack in and closing the door. “You can tell that easy, huh?”

His foot hit the pedal and I slammed backward as he sped off at what had to be an illegal speed worthy of hell, bracing my hands on whatever I could find. “You got that dreamy look in your eye, kid. The one they all get when they come to the city for the first time.”

I chuckled and looked at New York rising before me through the window and knew that somewhere, my future was out there waiting for me. “You don’t say.”

* * *

I waited until I’d snuck into one of the dorm elevators before calling Rhys. I knew his room number, so it was just a matter of getting up. Visions swept through my mind like scenes from a romantic movie. I’d call him, he’d say he wished I were there, I’d knock on the door and he’d open it to find me looking at him all windswept from racing through the city after him only to tell him cheesily, “Me too.”

We would hug. I would probably cry. But it wouldn’t matter. In a matter of minutes, we would be together again. I could practically hear Mor flailing at us all the way from Seattle.

My heart was beating so fast by the time he picked up, just as the elevator doors sprung open to his floor. I stepped out and looked for a sign telling me which direction would take me to his dorm apartment - Room 39A.

“Feyre, hey.”

He sounded sleepy, like he was just waking up.

“Finally,” I said, the breath going out of me. Just in front of the common room, I spotted a sign. Rooms 30-40 to the left. Bingo.

“Feyre, I’m so, so sorry,” Rhys said.

“It’s okay, really.” I could be angry at him later. The closer I got to his room, the more my stomach fluttered and my grip on the cell tightened. I just wanted to see him. “We can talk about everything later. For now, I just want to see you.”

I tried to make it sound teasing, my own little secret to confuse him and make him wonder what I was playing at. But he only sighed. “That’s what I’m sorry about, Feyre. If I hadn’t been so stupid, so damned blind and just told you-”

“Hey, it’s okay, we’ll figure it out.” Damn, he sounded like shit.

_ 37… 38… 39! _

“I think I know what will make it better,” I offered, straightening myself up in front of the door. The rest of the hallway was quiet considering it was only a few hours until Halloween parties would likely start and people would be dashing about to leave. But it afforded me the ability to hear Rhys inside his room.

_ So close… _

“I don’t think you understand,” Rhys said. Again he sounded pained. I wanted to make it stop.

I knocked firmly on the door. The room inside went quiet and I smiled.

“Oh I understand perfectly.”

“Feyre-”

“Rhys.” The door swung open and I took a huge breath, plastering a smile of relief all over my face. “I missed you.”

Helion arched a brow at me in the doorway and leaned against the frame. My smile fell abruptly. “Did you now? Well that’s interesting,” he said. There was a quiet purr to his voice that froze my lungs from moving. I laughed nervously and leaned forward trying to spot where Rhys would be in the room.

He wasn’t there.

Helion watched me looking, took in the tight-gripped phone at my ear, the bag on my shoulders, and slowly, his face fell. “Oh shit,” he said.

“I missed you, too, Feyre,” Rhys said in my ear. Suddenly, I knew what was coming. And I wasn’t ready for it.

“I told him to call you,” Helion said, straightening up. Someone shifted inside the apartment, but I couldn’t tell who it was from the tears rising up and threatening to swallow me whole. Whoever it was, it wasn’t Rhys.

“Rhys,” I said and it was strangled. “Are you in New York still?” Silence. “Please,  _ please _ tell me you’re still in New York.”

“Feyre, I…. fuck. Feyre, I’m in LA. I’m sorry. I decided my dad could go fuck himself and flew out anyway. I took a red eye. Same as you.”

He really was tired then. He really had probably just woken up after sleeping all night on a plane, same as I had. We had probably just missed each other at the airport. I didn’t need to do the math in my head to know that just as I was boarding my plane, he was likely landing in his.

Across the country, across the stars, we had missed each other simple as that.

And that was what had me dropping my phone and crumpling to my knees in a pile of tears and defeat in front of Helion as Rhys called out for me a million miles away.

* * *

_ Feyre: Hey. _

_ Rhys: Are you okay? What happened? _

_ Feyre: I sort of freaked out a little bit. Just surprised I think. I don’t think I can handle talking for a bit, though. =/ _

_ Rhys: Feyre, I am so sorry. I feel like such an ass. _

_ Feyre: Don’t. Really. Either of us could have said something. Helion helped me get settled and pull myself together. _

_ Rhys: I am going to murder my father as soon as this conversation is over. _

_ Feyre: What’s going on with your dad? Is everything okay? Mor said you weren’t doing well in school, fighting with your dad all the time… _

_ Rhys: We’ve been sort of… at odds. With each other. I haven’t been doing as well with my classes as he would have liked. _

_ Feyre: You never told me that. Why aren’t you doing well? Is it all your classes? Are you having problems studying? We can figure it out, whatever it is. Maybe you could get tutoring or Elain and Nesta always say office hours help. There’s gotta be something? _

_ Rhys: I wish I could kiss you right now. Your concern is endearing. _

_ Feyre: Rhysand. _

_ Rhys: Fine. _

_ Rhys: It’s not all of my classes. Technically, I should be doing just fine in all of them. But dad keeps beating me over the head about going pre-law and I simply have no interest. So I haven’t exactly been keeping up with my intro class as much as I should. _

_ Feyre: That makes sense, but I thought you were enjoying the law classes? _

_ Rhys: No, I am! Or at least, my human trafficking class is fascinating. And purposeful. _

_ Rhys: But when I sit in my intro class, I see the future my dad wants. The court cases. Class action lawsuits. Being sued over petty business disagreements. It feels so meaningless. _

_ Feyre: So tell your dad to shove it. _

_ Rhys: Again, I wish I could kiss you. I can’t exactly tell him to shove it. He’s paying my upper class millennial tuition bills, darling. _

_ Feyre: Poor rich trust fund baby. I know he is. But you don’t have to work for him. There is more than one kind of lawyer you know. Surely he’ll be proud of you no matter what. _

_ Rhys: I don’t know about that. _

_ Feyre: You’re home, right? Talk to him. It’s a lot harder to be angry and yell at someone you love when they’re there in person. _

_ Rhys: Is that why you came to New York to see me? So you could kick my ass for lying to you? _

_ Feyre: No! _

_ Feyre: Okay maybe a little. _

_ Feyre: Okay maybe a lot a lot. _

_ Rhys: Kisses, darling, all the kisses. _

_ Feyre: You’re not getting out of this that easy. Why didn’t you tell me? _

_ Rhys: Number? _

_ Feyre: Don’t you dare skirt the issue and ignore me or I WILL call you and we WILL fight it out. _

_ Rhys: I’m serious. Feyre, I know we haven’t had as much time to talk and be together as we normally would, but when we do, you’re struggling. Please don’t pretend otherwise. _

_ Rhys: I hear it in your voice every Saturday morning when I call. You sound so relieved just to be on the phone with me. _

_ Rhys: You always talk about how Lucien bails on plans and your dad is up and down and Mor is distracted with everything in Seattle. _

_ Rhys: And when you get off work, your texts get shorter and shorter. I can tell you’re exhausted. Sometimes you go straight to sleep. I know you, Feyre. I can’t remember the last time you did something fun. Just for yourself. When was your last therapy session? Have you even been drawing much lately or have you just been working at the gallery non-stop pretending you’re not upset? _

_ …  _

_ … _

_ …  _

_ Rhys: Feyre, please say something. _

_ Feyre: I don’t want to. _

_ Rhys: Because I’m right possibly? _

_ Feyre: Because of course you’re fucking right. _

_ Rhys: You’re angry. _

_ Feyre: Yes I’m angry! I hate this. I hate not seeing you. I hate that this weekend was supposed to feel like a vacation. I hate that it’s all ruined and that I’m fucking this all up. _

_ Feyre: I miss you. _

_ Rhys: Then it’s settled then. I’ll transfer next semester and come home. _

_ Feyre: Wait - no. Rhys, no. You can’t do that. _

_ Rhys: Why not? _

_ Feyre: Because. NYU is HUGE. You worked so hard to go there! You can’t give that up just because I’m having a problem. _

_ Rhys: It’s my problem too, Feyre! You think I don’t miss you like crazy? You think I hate hearing Mor gush about her life with Az knowing he gets to hold her every single night while you and I exchange text messages here and there? You think I enjoy being away from you? _

_ Feyre: Now I wanna kiss you. _

_ Feyre: But you still can’t give everything up just because of me. It’s not just about you. _

_ Rhys: What do you mean? _

_ Feyre: I miss you. Like crazy all the time. Every day. But I miss Mor. I miss Lucien when he goes home after we hang out if we even do. I miss my own damn family and I live with them. Everyone is distant. It’s not just you. _

_ Rhys: That’s still not a solution. _

_ Feyre: I know. But I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t ask you to give up something you love. _

_ Rhys: Who says I love NYU that much? _

_ Feyre: I do. You think you know me so well? Well you’re not the only one keeping tabs. _

_ Feyre: You can’t shut up about that trafficking class. It’s one reason I never would have believed you weren’t doing well with your grades. _

_ Feyre: You’re constantly snapping pics of all the cool food places you love to eat at on and around campus. _

_ Feyre: And while I know you’ll never admit it, you adore Helion. You feel embarrassed sometimes with him because he’s more outgoing than you and you didn’t know that was possible. But he’s FUN. And he helps you break the stress that I now know your dad’s been putting on you. _

_ Rhys: Well damn. _

_ Feyre: Just say you want to kiss me again. I believe that’s your line. _

_ Rhys: I love you more than I love NYU. I’d give it up if you needed me to come home. _

_ Feyre: Needed, but not want. If you wanted to be home, it might be different. _

_ Rhys: I do want to be home. That’s what I’ve been saying this entire time. _

_ Feyre: But only because you think I’m struggling. If you hated New York, the school, your FRIENDS. Maybe then I’d feel differently. But if I’m honest… _

_ Rhys: What is it? _

_ Feyre: You coming home would hurt too much. I hate feeling like I can’t do this. I don’t want to give up. If you came home, I think I would feel like a failure and that scares me. After how hard senior year was, I want to try to be better. _

_ Rhys: You don’t have to always be perfect, Feyre. _

_ Feyre: I know. And I’m not asking for perfect. I’m just asking for time? Give it until Christmas. You won’t be able to transfer schools by next semester, it doesn’t work like that. But you’ll be home in another month or so and maybe by then I’ll have enough of my shit together that we can make the distance work until something better comes along. _

_ Rhys: One condition. You have to actually try. Don’t just wish yourself well. Go back to therapy? Call Lucien to make plans now and then instead of just hoping he’ll text you? For me? _

_ Rhys: And go out. You have so many friends at the gallery that you never see. You deserve to live a little and have fun. _

_ … _

_ Rhys: Feyre? _

_ Feyre: I’m here. I’m just. You know. _

_ Rhys: Wishing you could kiss me. _

_ Feyre: Gosh, you’re such a prick. _

_ Rhys: Prick that you wanna kiss. _

_ Rhys: I love you, Feyre. No matter what. Will you be okay tonight? _

_ Feyre: Yeah. Helion and… Kallias? They said they’re staying in with me tonight. _

_ Rhys: Is that so? _

_ Feyre: Is that a surprise? _

_ Rhys: Not really, no. He loves to party, but he’s a bigger person than he is a partier. His boyfriend too. I’m glad he’s staying with you. _

_ Feyre: He’s nice. They both are. Kallias is kind of quiet and reserved, but Helion talks plenty for all of us. _

_ Rhys: That sounds like Helion. _

_ Rhys: What are you guys doing tonight? _

_ Feyre: Scary movie marathon. _

_ Rhys: Starting with? _

_ Feyre: Nightmare on Elm Street. Johnny Depp before he was creepy and old. _

_ Rhys: Excellent. _

_ Feyre: Hold my hand at the scary parts? _

_ Rhys: All night long, love. All night long. _

* * *

_ Dear Nesta, _

_ It’s been a while since I’ve last heard from you. The weather here is starting to get cold. It probably sounds dumb and sappy, but I miss how warm you are. I’m doing well in training, top of the class. But it’s rough. Not too many of the boys or ladies I train with offer a friendly face when we’re put through hell a hundred times over every single day. _

_ It probably doesn’t help that I won all their clothes in fights either. Oops. _

_ I miss you. I hope you’re okay. I know you don’t like writing me, but let me know you’re okay? Please? _

_ Love, _

_ Cassian _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre begins therapy sessions again and has an unusual conversation with her parents.

Rhys and I missed each other again at the airport coming home by an hour. We debated trying to meet at the risk of missing flights, but security lines were over an hour wait and it just wasn’t feasible.

Nesta, despite not answering me when I’d texted her from NYU to say what had happened, wanted to know why I didn’t just fly out some other weekend. The fresh wave of emails and paperwork waiting for me on my desk Monday morning at work quickly became my reason why.

Alis had thrown me to the wolves, clearly. Now that it was hitting mid-November, I had two separate holiday parties to plan in addition to a number of holiday-related events open to the public. Special exhibits were going up every week to change things up for the oncoming winter season, the cafe was bringing in a new seasonal menu while also trying to test out the recipes I’d requested for the March ‘Spring Solstice’ meetings, and Alis was in peak crisis mode.

Which meant I, too, was in peak crisis mode.

“Have you tried meditation yet?”

My shoulders pinched. Dr. Cerridwen always spoke with a firm, yet kind voice. It was one thing that helped me choose to stick with her when I first started looking for a therapist.

Now, sitting in her office that I hadn’t visited since early summer, I felt uncomfortable despite the ease her voice afforded me.

“I know it was something that I had suggested to you when we last saw each other,” she continued. “Did you ever decide you were open to following through with it?”

Did I  _ decide _ if I was  _ open _ to it. As if there wouldn’t be consequences when I said no.

“No, I didn’t do it,” I admitted. “I think I just forgot.”

Dr. Cerridwen nodded. “That’s okay. There are a number of phone apps I can show you, if you’d like. And I can get you credits to bypass some of the subscription fees.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll get you a list and review it with you before you leave. Is there anything else you wish to discuss while we have a few minutes left?”

“I don’t think so.” I said it far too quickly for my tastes.

“Well Feyre, I have to say.” She snapped her notebook closed and stood to come sit next to me on the couch. It was leather and made weird noises whenever I sank onto it, but the leather felt cool on my skin in her air-conditioned office. Soothing. “I’m incredibly proud of you.”

Sure she was. People always were when talking to people like me, people the rest of the world would label ‘crazy.’ At least, I felt crazy sometimes.

“You’ve been gone for a long time and it sounds like you’ve been struggling with some things. But you came back and had what I’d say was a very productive session.”

Had I really?

Sure, I’d been honest. I’d told her everything that had happened since we’d last talked. But I still felt empty at the end of it with nothing but more tears and vague suggestions of what I could do to take with me.

Looking at Dr. Cerridwen, I saw a friend in her who wouldn’t walk out the door with me. Rhys and I had been doing better at communicating since New York, but I still hadn’t figured out where to find release when I was struggling.

More like who to find release with.

“Thank you,” I said. “I think so too.”

Dr. Cerridwen smiled at my easy lie and jotted down meditation apps for me to try. And then I was out the door and on my way.

I hated to admit that it had taken me two full weeks after I’d promised Rhys to start therapy again to actually schedule a session. Now that I was back and planned to make it a regular occurence again, I decided that I’d use it as an excuse to hop a bus and see dad too. I hadn’t seen him since mid-October, and with Dr. Cerridwen’s office so close to his and mom’s neighborhood, there was no excuse why I couldn’t go.

One quick phone call with Mor while Rhys was in class just had to come first.

“How’d it go?”

Straight to business then.

“Hello to you too, sunshine.”

“I’m just trying to be a dutiful best friend,” Mor said.

She really had been. No matter how often I told her it wasn’t her fault what had happened with the New York-Halloween fiasco, Mor had felt beyond guilty that she’d hadn’t been more in touch. At least enough to realize Rhys and I weren’t doing so well.

Part of me felt just as bad as she did. Now that Rhys and I had had it out, it was clear he had filled Mor in. I never went a single day without an extended phone call from one of them and texts from the other.

“You’re always a dutiful friend,” I said, hopping off the bus and making my way through the cozy streets leading to my parents’ house. “And you need to stop sulking. I told you, none of it was your fault.”

“Blah, blah, blah. Tell me about your appointment.”

“It was fine, honestly. We talked. She told me I need to meditate.”

“Ooh! Meditating. That could be cool. I saw that as a suggestion on this flier from the campus health center the other day. ‘Destress the Mess’ for like, finals and studying and stuff. One of the girls in my science class does it and says it really helps.”

“Wow, finals already. How did that happen?”

“I know.” The light LA breeze passing over me filled the heavy silence between us. “I mean, they’re still about four weeks away, but none of my professors will shut up about them. And that’s still with a few papers and midterms to go. But eh, screw it, yeah? What do you think about this meditating stuff? Are you going to try it?”

Health center pamphlets on stress. Midterms, papers,  _ and _ finals. Mor had enough on her plate when it came to worrying over whether or not I would sit my closet, legs crossed, thinking myself into oblivion.

Or not thinking. However meditation worked.

“Maybe,” I said. I kicked a rock and watched it skitter down the sidewalk. When I caught up to it, I kicked it again. “I should let you go.”

“Feyre, wait-”

“I’m actually standing outside my parents’ place. I’m seeing my dad.”

“Oh, you are? Really, really?”

“Promise.”

It would be another ten minutes to get me there, but all the same, she didn’t have to know that.

“Okay. Well, try the meditating thing tonight and let me know how it goes? I want extensive updates!”

“Sure, sure.”

“Color coded notes and debriefs!”

I snorted. “Go back to work, geez.”

“I love you too, Fey-Fey.” I could just see her gawking at me in the silliest way over the phone. She wouldn’t be sticking her tongue out - that was reserved for Rhys and Rhys alone. Maybe Cassian. But still, she’d do something until I was laughing and smiling again.

“BYE.”

I hung up and instantly got a text.

_ Mor: <3 _

Meditating.

As I strolled onto my street, I pulled out the list of apps Dr. Cerridwen had given me. They all had really chic, zen names like  _ Flow _ ,  _ Vibe, _ and  _ Clear Vision _ . It sounded a little too hippy for my tastes, if I was honest.

If I was actually being honest, the idea made me kinda nervous. All I knew about mediation was that you sit in silence and stare at the wall for hours trying not to think. Already, it seemed like I would be set up to fail.

_ No _ , I told myself, taking breaths and counting them. Shit, I could really set myself up for failure when I wanted to.

I didn’t bother knocking on the door, instead casually going inside. Instantly, I spotted my parents at the kitchen table, coffee mugs between them. They were huddled together closely and I almost tried to step back out onto the porch, but… too late.

“Feyre, honey,” mom said, standing right up. Dad leaned back in his chair and I could tell he was tense despite the smile. “This is a nice surprise.”

“Is it?” I readjusted my purse strap and motioned at the door. “I can leave if you two are…”

My mom’s face fell briefly before her arms were practically pushing me toward the kitchen table. Happy to see me? Or relieved to have a buffer?

Both, I told myself. It could be both.

Maybe.

I sat down and mom offered me a cup of coffee, but even on the relatively cool day we were having, iced tea sounded better. “I’ll make a pitcher,” she said and started digging for the bags.

As mom moved about the kitchen and dad sat by quietly, something felt distinctly off. Dad looked haggard, worn out, but that was pretty typical for him.

What wasn’t typical was the way mom’s hair was curling. She hadn’t had time to style it yet. Mom never had her hair unstyled. And her clothes had wrinkles to them as if they hadn’t been dried properly. When she turned to fill the pitcher up with water at the sink, I realized she wasn’t wearing much makeup either.

“Are you guys sure this isn’t a-”

“Don’t be silly!” Mom said. “Tell us about your day. This’ll be ready in no time. These cold brew bags, they’re the good stuff!”

Oh my gosh, what was happening.

Dad stared out the window as I talked. LA doesn’t really get seasons, so none of the leaves turn red or anything in the fall like the rest of the country. But we don’t get snow either. So while I suspected his stare was more about avoidance, the gardens really did look lovely still. Mom had planted tulips with Elain a few weeks back and they were still thriving.

“I also, um,” I paused, clearing my throat. Why I was telling my worry-wart parents about this was beyond me, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “After work, I went to see Dr. Cerridwen.”

Mom visibly tensed, her hand stilling on her coffee mug. Dad simply looked oblivious. “Who’s Dr. Cerridwen?” he asked.

My lips parted, but it was to mom I looked. Mom who sighed and hung her head low, her nails clanking on the mug. She hadn’t told him.

To be fair, I’d never told dad about my therapy sessions either. I had assumed for some reason that mom had told him sometime along the way. That was what parents did, right? Like the time I got my first period and I was only 13. I freaked out about it and begged mom not to tell my dad because I was so embarrassed and she promised she wouldn’t, but getting a little older I knew she must have. It’s what parents do, right? Keep each other in the loop.

Apparently not my parents.

“Um, Dr. Cerridwen is my therapist,” I said. And it was like watching a star die from the universe in my father’s eyes with no one there to save it. I could only stand by and watch. “I… I see a therapist sometimes.” My voice dropped to a bare whisper.

Mom understood. She perked right up and in her cheeriest voice, addressed my father, actually placing a hand on his forearm and rubbing smoothing circles over his skin. It was the most I’d seen them touch in years.

“Feyre found herself wanting an outlet for all the… hard work she was putting in last year. A way to…” she looked at me and I nodded quickly.

“A way to destress,” I said.

“Exactly! Destress.”

Mor’s health center pamphlet came to mind.  _ Destress the Mess! _

“Alright,” dad said.

Silence was too painful to endure, so I pressed on. “She’s really nice. I just struggle to stay calm sometimes.” And I think the world is constantly falling apart, my family hates each other, and I have no one to physically talk to, but he didn’t need to know that. “She gives me coping strategies. That’s all. Like today - oh my gosh! Meditation!”

“Meditation?”

“Yeah, she wants me to meditate. Isn’t that neat?”

Dad stared and stared and stared at the hand mom had placed on his arm. His only lifeline in the sea of weird as I rattled on about meditation in a way that didn’t sound like myself at all instead of discussing the aching loneliness I was really struggling with every time I saw him.

“Yeah, Fey. Meditation can be useful. They had me try it when I was… you know, before.”

“Of course,” I said. Mom withdrew sensing the worst of it had passed. Dad continued to stare at the spot where her hand had been. How much had that touch meant to him? Was he dying inside, recoiling from the touch of someone he no longer loved and trying to hide it for my sake? Or was he dying to get it back?

“What are your plans for Thanksgiving, honey?” mom asked. Dad’s eyes narrowed.

“Thanksgiving? I mean… what are you talking about?”

“It’s two weeks away. Oh, your iced tea! I almost forgot.”

She popped up to get me a glass. And just that brief absence from the table, I could see dad drop the mask. Not that his was a very good one to begin with. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes too hard, held his face in his hands too long, with too much strain. Too much everything.

“Here you go,” mom said, handing me the drink. It was bitter and unsweet, exactly the way I liked it. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any other plans. You and the girls will come over, right?”

When I was six, my dad came home from the studio one day with this really elaborate clock he’d carved himself. It had to have taken him weeks to put together. Not just the wood carvings that formed the structure, but the interior itself. All of the gears and mechanisms, he’d done it himself. As a gift for my mom on their anniversary.

She had always said it was a little too country looking for her taste, but then dad added a dark stain to the finish and no matter if we moved or rearranged furniture or what, that clock always stayed. And right then, I could hear every single, heavy click of the hands turning about the face as I gawked across the table at my parents.

“We’re… having Thanksgiving dinner?”

Mom nodded with a bemused expression I couldn’t quite read. “Yes. Of course.”

Though I kept my gaze on her, she didn’t balk. Slowly, my gaze slid to dad. His smile was less genuine, but there all the same. “Really?” I asked.

“Do you already have plans, or-”

“No,” I said. The word flew out of my mouth so fast, forcing me to see just how badly I suddenly wanted this totally  _ normal _ family thing to happen. “I don’t have any plans at all. Rhys and I were sort of hoping to make a quick visit happen-”

“Oh he can come too!” Mom said. “Invite him over. I’d love to spend more time with him!”

“Oh well, that’s okay. He has to go to Seattle. His dad decided last minute to drag him up to see Mor. They’re kind of touchy about Thanksgiving without his mom and sister.”

“I see,” Mom said, nodding solemnly. “Well, it’ll be just us then. All five of us!”

It was what I always wanted. What I had spent so many agonizing days and weeks praying for. Family togetherness. Dinners. Holidays. Mom and dad sitting in the same room and not yelling at each other between bites of food.

If only dad didn’t look so glum as he took a sip of his coffee. Outside, the birds fell silent as they flew to their nests for the remainder of the evening. I tried to mirror my mom’s tight smile and hid my failure by drinking my iced tea instead.

* * *

_ No. No. Definitely not. No. Not that one. Noooooope. _

I scrolled through several meditation apps in the app store trying to find one that didn’t sound completely absurd. I was probably the only person in the world finding it completely stress-inducing to download an app. It was just so hard to think that the answer to my problems was in a little square box with a caption that read  _ “Cleanse your aura in seven easy steps!” _

I was about to click the read through for an app called HeadSpace that had a simple white box for an icon with a plain orange circle in the middle when I heard the front door open. “Thank goodness,” I said, tossing my phone aside on the bed and running out of the room. I wanted to corner Nesta before she had a chance to hole up in her room.

“Do you know about Thanksgiving?” I asked.

Nesta tossed her keys on a plate at the counter and groaned. “What?”

“Thanksgiving. Did mom and dad say anything to you?”

“Feyre, you know I don’t really talk to dad anymore.”

I stepped across her and crossed my arms. “Really? You’re going to be an ass about this?”

Nesta’s shoulder slumped, her shoulder bag dropping. She picked it up and shook it between us. “I have ten  _ twenty page papers _ to grade, Feyre. Twenty pages. That’s 200 pages total.”

“Sounds like a groovy, good-time, eh-”

“In RUSSIAN. Please quickly explain to me what you’re talking about so I can get started.”

I cleared my throat and mustered the deepest, dumbest baritone my body could find. “In this paper, I shall attempt to demand what knowledge one older sister knows about the American festivities known as Thanksgiving-”

“Oh fuck off,” Nesta said and pushed past me.

I snorted and grabbed her arm. “Stoooooop it. You’re so serious.” I yanked her back around and forced her to face me, preferable to following her all the way to her room. “I just wanna know if you knew we were all having Thanksgiving together. I went to mom and dad’s today and they were weird.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Weird how?”

“It’s hard to explain without having seen it yourself, but like… she was touching him. And smiling and making iced tea.”

“And that’s weird because?”

“Come on, you know mom and dad aren’t like that anymore. At least not together. It all felt like… pretend. When I first came in, they were all hovered together and whispery and stuff.”

“I don’t know, Feyre. And I don’t really care.”

Nesta turned back around and headed to her room, but once again, I dashed in front. The tightness of her blouse as she stretched out seemed to echo the exhaustion of her face. “Wait, wait,” I begged.

“What?!” The word came gritting out between her teeth.

“I just…” Le sigh. This was always the hard part and I hated it. Hated how difficult it was. “You would tell me, right? If you knew something?” Nesta tilted her head. “Sometimes you and Elain know things. You’re close with mom and I’m, like, not. Okay, I’m just not. And sometimes it’s really big things and you guys keep secrets from me and then you act all offended when I am shocked to find out later, and I just wanna know if, like,” I waved my hands around in the air, “there’s something going on that you’re not telling me.”

Nesta considered me. Like,  _ really _ really considered me. Her eyes bored into mine before scanning me up and down, lingering on my hands. Finally she grabbed my shoulders.

“I don’t know anything. Okay?”

“You promise?”

“Fucking pinky swear. Now nod your head so I know you understand and I can leave in peace.”

I hesitated and then… “Okay. I’m sorry. Go grade your papers…”

Nesta dropped her arms. “Thank you.”

I walked to the bathroom and turned the water on, waiting for it to get as cold as it possibly could before splashing it all over my face. Though it was freezing cold and bit at my skin, I still didn’t feel very awake.

If Nesta didn’t know anything, then Elain wouldn’t either. I was certain something was going on, though. Things at the house had been off and it unnerved me. Just when I was starting to find a rhythm or a path I might be able to follow toward a little peace, I couldn’t shake the feeling more was heading straight for us.

Thanksgiving was in two weeks. So I had two weeks to wait and find out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre finds out that her parents are divorcing over Thanksgiving dinner and that her dad is soon moving out. As he settles into his apartment, Feyre makes a shocking discovery with her sisters that brings her entire world crashing down. *TW: Character Death*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******TW: Suicide and Character Death******

When I was told over Thanksgiving dinner that my parents’ separation from last year was officially moving forward again into a full blown divorce, I was oddly calm about it.

So that’s what all the weirdness had been about.

Of course, being told “over dinner” was also somewhat of a stretch. Having apparently learned from our last family meal at the end of summer, Thanksgiving dinner had already been completely laid out on the table when my sisters and I got to the house. Plates were left in a stack at the end of the table, mom gesturing to it all as she sat in front of the TV in the living room, her own plate piled with turkey and stuffing.

It appeared all bets were off this time.

Mom didn’t normally eat so much. So whether it was the special occasion of it all or just plain nervousness as she casually announced, “Oh and girls - the divorce will be finalized come New Year’s” upon getting up for a refill of her Diet Coke, I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both.

Whichever it was, I found myself outside sitting on the grass and staring out at the wooden fencing marking off the yard. Late November still meant some lingering heat in LA, but the trees all looked the same as they had in spring. It was fall without fall. Winter before the summer had really ended.

The creak of the sliding glass door alerted me to a new presence joining the last rays of sunshine falling upon us. My stomach clenched, trying to keep my entire body from clamming up as I wondered who was going to try and talk me down first.

Had someone convinced mom to come level with me only to say I should just get over it? Or would Elain try and coax me gently into coming back inside, where we could pretend nothing had ever happened? Maybe Nesta would just stare at me from the door, her subtle way of guilting me into compliance.

I was wrong on all counts as a tiny  _ clink _ of a fork on mom’s small china plate was waved in front of me.

“Pie?”

Dad squinted down at me, a sad look on his face.

“Pie, dad? Really?”

“I know it’s not your favorite.”

“It hardly even counts as dessert,” I said, but took the plate anyway. Dad seemed pleased enough to sit down beside me and my body relaxed, grateful he was staying and not someone else. I didn’t want to be alone even if being with my family terrified me a little bit.

In reality, I guess I couldn’t blame myself for wondering what they’d all think of me out here. I hadn’t exactly handled change that well the last couple of years.

And after mom made the announcement, no one even said anything. Dad took a deep breath, clicked the remote to a fresh episode of  _ M*A*S*H, _ and that was it.

I really never had cared for pie. Even chocolate cream. There was just something about it that had always felt incomplete to me as a dessert. All the same, I shoved my fork through the cream and crust and took a tart bite. The lemon in the meringue bit my tongue in a not entirely unpleasing way.

Dad cleared his throat. I tried to imagine it was over a stuck bite of pie in his throat and not the awkwardness settling over all of us on this weird, weird day.

“Are you gonna say what’s on your mind, or you gonna make me play the nosey dad card and ask, hmm?”

I let out of a huff of air and made of show of scraping my fork slowly across my plate, hard enough to make a squeak. Dad chuckled. “Alright kiddo, spill.”

I took another bite and made him wait it out before I finally answered. “It’s fine,” I said.

“Is it?”

His voice was surprisingly clear. Like he knew for once what he was talking about. Like he had a plan.

I shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like this is a huge surprise, right?” Dad shrugged with a tilt of his head and I continued. “Mom only moved back in to help me finish high school and wait out the recovery. That’s all over now, so…”

His head nodded as I spoke. “So?”

“So… what now?”

Dad set his fork down, the corners of his lips hiding a secret to one side of his face as though trying to carefully preserve some thought between us that I wasn’t privy to.

“You know,” he said, “when we found out your mom was pregnant with you, we were shocked. Well, I take that back. We were shocked, but we shouldn’t have been. Your mom had been eating jello and every sour patch candy she could get her hands on for weeks.” I stared at him waiting for the point, but dad just leaned in closer and smiled. “When she was pregnant with Nesta and Elain, it was nothing but salads. You can see why I should have known something was up.”

“Dad, what are you talking about?”

“I’m saying…” he stared back out ahead of us where I’d been looking earlier, only his gaze went skyward where the last of that beautiful pink glow was finally fading to black. “I’m saying that everything about you has been a surprise Feyre, from the very first day. Finding out we’d have you seven, eight years after Elain… Finding out you were a girl when we were certain our turn for a boy was coming. How calm and relaxed you were as a kid when your sisters had been busy and furious from the moment they learned to cry.”

Dad set his plate aside and took my hand. It was an effort not to pull back from him - the first time I’d ever felt the instinct. His eyes were clear and hard as he took me in and it made my heart feel scared, if such an idea is even possible.

“And now… look at you, Feyre.” He shook his head, blinking rapidly. “You’re all grown up and you’re still surprising me in new ways all the time.”

I went to speak and found it oddly difficult, my throat thick. “What do you mean?”

“You have this job that you’re, what do you call it now - kicking  _ ass _ at.” I briefly closed my eyes and we mutually chuckled. “You have a solid relationship with a smart, young man across many miles and states. You’ve found friends and love. And now…” he stared down at my hand, which even as an adult was still dwarfed by my dad’s larger, calloused one. “And now your parents are doing something that they know is really difficult for you in ways it’s not for anyone else and you’re sitting out here eating pie you don’t like, asking what comes next.”

His gaze met mine again and when I blinked, tears rolled down my cheek. When did everything become so complicated, I wondered. And when had I grown up so much? Despite it all, I hadn’t realized how much I’d accomplished until my dad laid it out for me. Maybe I was too hard on myself for always thinking I was failing at this life thing.

“It’s a valid question,” I sniffled.

Dad smiled. “Yeah, honey. It is.”

We let the world fall silent until we’d finished our terrible slices of pie. Dad’s was pumpkin - the worst sort of holiday fare imaginable. But it had always been his favorite.

Watching him scoop up the last bite, it felt oddly… nostalgic. As if I were seeing this happen in the past and I was just a little kid, maybe five or six years old, watching her dad eat pie in the backyard on Thanksgiving or any other day of the week. And maybe after we’d go back inside to watch another episode of  _ M*A*S*H _ before bed or we’d ride our bikes in the street beneath the lights or maybe we’d just go to bed full and tired from a lazy day.

I didn’t want to think that really we’d go inside and my sisters would drag me out to the car so I could go home and leave my parents behind together for the last time. That we might never sit out in this yard and eat terrible pie together again.

“So… what  _ is _ gonna happen?”

Dad sighed. “I’ve got an apartment lined up. Moving out in a week-and-a-half.”

“Oh.”

He eyed me, one brow quirked up. “That okay with you?”

Oddly, yeah it was.

I turned around and stared at the house knowing they’d put mom’s name on it when she moved in. It made sense, I supposed, that they wouldn’t be living together anymore. Even if the idea of dad giving up the place he’d chosen made my insides want to rip and rage. This place, as short as our stay had been, had become a  _ home _ .

“And mom?”

“Feyre,” my dad said, taking my chin and turning my face back to him, away from the house and what we both knew was inside likely watching us. “You need to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Hating her.”

My face pinched and I shook out of his grasp. “I don’t hate her.”

“Hate is the wrong word, but it’s the closest one we’ve got in this language to describe how you act with her.”

Next to my shoe, I picked at a blade of grass. Twirled it between my fingers until it shriveled up and tore in two. “I don’t hate her,” I said again, choosing a new blade of greenery. “And she acts the same  _ hateful _ way toward me, so really…”

“She started it?”

“Exactly!”

Dad chuckled and I breathed a little easier. With anyone else, I might have been scolded or yelled at. Not dad.

“I mean it, honey. You have to forgive her. She loves you more than you know.”

“Well, she has a funny way of showing it.” I took the blades of grass I’d ripped and twisted together and tossed them out in front of me. I expected dad would argue, tell me to be more reasonable or easier on mom, tell me she was just looking out for me. Instead, he was quiet, thoughtful.

“Don’t we all, Feyre?”

I could only stare.

Dad ran his hands through his hair and readjusted his posture. I could see him grappling for the words to explain.

“When Nesta was born-”

“Here we go,” I said.

“She came into the world screaming, ready to tear it all down right from the very get-go. She was the most displeased little baby you ever saw. We nearly decided to stop at one kid then and there if that was what they’d all be like. But then she got just old enough to start understanding us and we’d explain the world to her and she’d listen. Then she wasn’t so upset anymore.

“And when Elain came, it was completely different. She didn’t scream or cry, but she never stopped moving. She always wanted to be out and exploring, knowing. The only time she ever got upset was when she had to sit still even though being solitary and alone was all Nesta had wanted.

“We’re all different, Feyre. Your mom can read your sisters well and she knows what to say to them. Don’t think there’s not a reason I came out with the peace offering instead of her.”

I ground my teeth together, willing my body not to shake. “Are you saying she doesn’t love me or something?”

“No, no - oh honey,  _ no, _ not in the least,” dad said. He put his hand on my back and ran it in circles. “I’m saying the exact opposite. I’m saying she loves you so much it  _ scares _ her to not know how to talk to you. The same way it scares Nesta when she has to face the world or Elain when the world goes to sleep.”

_ Oh and girls - the divorce will be finalized come New Year’s… _

So casual. So abrupt.

So rushed and whispered.

Mom hadn’t said it on the fly as she left the room because she didn’t care. She’d done it because she was… afraid?

I thought about the last time they’d separated. How it had started out as a small conversation that escalated into a war leading me to Lucien’s party where I’d almost made some really bad decisions. Months went by before mom and I talked again even though she and my sisters had carried on together no problem.

Convincing her I could move out had been a chore. Her telling me we’d have Thanksgiving together had been awkward and stilted at best.

Maybe she really was scared. Did it excuse her? Did it make me care less? Maybe not. But also… maybe dad was partially right. Maybe she didn’t know what to say to me just as much as I didn’t know what to say to her.

Maybe she had come screaming into this world like Nesta and I’d come quietly like my dad or Elain and maybe that was all there was to it.

“Just promise me you’ll try, Feyre,” dad said after a long pause in which it was clear I didn’t have a response. “Promise me you’ll try to remember how much she loves you even when it feels like all is lost.”

I looked at dad and again it struck me how clear his eyes were, so different from the last time I’d seen him when he’d sat at the kitchen table silent and awkward and brooding. And I decided that if he, for all he’d been through with the drinking and recovery and divorce, could be this hopeful, then maybe I could to.

“Okay, dad,” I said. His grip fell on my shoulder with a soft squeeze. “I’ll try.”

He smiled and hugged me close. “That’s my girl.”

* * *

For hours, I worked on nothing but the canvas.

Before my shifts, on lunch breaks, and as soon as I got off work. Between meals, on the weekends, and during my Saturday morning calls with Rhys. Every spare moment I had went to the painting. I hadn’t been so inspired in months.

“Hang on and I’ll send a pic.”

I went out of FaceTime and opened the camera, angling my phone over the landscape. I had to stand back several feet to fit it all in frame.

“Tilt the camera up just a bit, yeah?” Rhys said. I had headphones in so the sound still carried to me with the phone held back.

“Why? I’m trying to get the whole thing in the shot.”

“Yeah, but if you move the camera up, that’ll bring  _ my _ angle down. And right now, I’m two inches away from seeing the top of your cleavage above your work apron.”

I replied by tilting the camera in the opposite direction.

“Brat,” Rhys snarled with the air of a laugh. Saturday mornings really were the best mornings.

“There,” I said, sending off the photo. “What do you think?”

“Hold on.” I waited for him to pull up the picture of the canvas. When he finally got there, he was quiet.

“Is that a pause of awe or a pause of dislike?”

I looked at my painting, the one I’d labored on for weeks.

The morning after Thanksgiving, I’d woken up with a new sense of purpose and gone into work fresh. The gallery was still closed to the public that Friday for the holiday, but the studio remained open for any of us wanting to work on projects. I’d gone in at noon and hadn’t left until nearly eight hours later.

Despite the time put in, the painting was rather simple. Just a sunset over a plain wooden fence. Dripping in color and intensity and… commitment.

I’d promised my dad I would  _ try _ . And I’d meant it. But rather than just try to love mom more or remember how much she loved me, I wanted to keep trying at everything in life. I owed it to dad.

So I’d made the painting to show that. It wasn’t anything special, but I knew dad would understand.

“Feyre?”

“Yeah?” I held my breath in anticipation, flipping the FaceTime video back around to me. Rhys’s eyes were soft and bright.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. The air went out of me.

“I’m glad. I’m gonna give it to him for Christmas.”

“He’s gonna love it. It’s  _ perfect _ .”

My heart warmed. Anyone else would probably have laughed at it. A wooden fence and some pink and purple skies? I could just hear Lucien in my head drawling on.  _ How boring _ .

But not Rhys.

Rhys knew without having to ask. It made my body physically ache with the reminder that we still hadn’t seen each other since summer.

“Speaking of Christmas,” I said. I removed my apron and started cleaning up my station. “When are you coming back again?”

Rhys sighed - exhausted. We’d barely spoken the last two weeks as he’d prepared for finals under his dad’s constant scrutiny. Part of me didn’t think he really needed to try so hard, that he was just doing it for his dad’s benefit. No matter how much I urged him to, though, Rhys still hadn’t told him how he felt about law school.

“I have one more final in a couple days and then I’m  _ done _ , thank fucking goodness.” I chuckled and smiled warily. I could see the downright greed in his eyes, the need for tomorrow to end and the will to get himself home. “My final’s late and dad arranged my flight with Southwest, so I’m not flying out until the day after.”

“Well, you’ll be home soon -  _ thank fucking goodness _ .” Rhys smirked, but it didn’t quite go as far as I would have liked. “That’s all that matters. And then we’ll have a long, happy holiday break to recharge you up for the spring.”

A groan met my ears.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to transfer?”

“Rhys.”

“Feyre.”

“I told you.” Rhys wouldn’t drop my stare and I stumbled, searching for the words I couldn’t come up with. “We’ll talk about it over break. But remember - you promised to give me time.”

“I know and I will. Scout’s honor.” He held up his hand in the traditional manner and I rolled my eyes.

“I have to go. Nesta’s picking me up in a few minutes and I haven’t finished cleaning up yet.”

“Already? But it’s only been…” Rhys mimed looking at a watch on his wrist. Sometimes I was surprised he didn’t actually wear one. “...three hours since we started talking.” He smiled and leaned into the camera looking pleased. “Not bad for a Saturday morning, huh?”

Heat rushed into my cheeks in the best kind of way. “Not bad at all. I’ll text you tonight, okay? Don’t study too hard.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

I went to hit the end call button, but Rhys caught me at the last second.

“Hey Feyre?”

“Hmm?”

“Number?”

I took a deep breath and looked skyward thinking it over. Then I looked at the painting and knew how happy it would make my dad.

“A solid eight, I think.”

“I like that. Eight looks good on you.”

“Bye Rhys.”

“Hey Feyre?”

“Yes  _ darling _ ?”

“I love you.”

I sighed, and smiled a mile wide. 

“I love you too.”

We hung up and I hugged the phone to my chest still smiling. A wild thought ran through my mind and I blushed. No one was at the studio, the last artists having left over forty minutes earlier. Everyone else in the gallery was too bothered with work to come check on me. I had a stack a mile high of RSVPs for the Spring Solstice to sort through sitting on my own desk, but I’d chosen to paint instead.

I bit my lip and said  _ screw it _ , holding my phone out in front of me and taking the most daring selfie I’d ever taken - the angle Rhys had wanted earlier with just a little bit more thrown in than what he’d bargained for. I sent the pic off and quickly deleted the evidence from my phone. It took all of two seconds for Rhys’s reply to come through.

_ Rhys: Me-OW. _

I blushed anew, my entire body squirming in on itself.

_ Rhys: Feyre darling, how am I supposed to study now when you do this to me? _

And then, when I didn’t reply straight away:

_ Rhys: FEYRE _

_ Rhys: !!!!!!!! _

_ Feyre: Didn’t you say it was an anatomy final? Get creative. ;) _

_ Rhys: Fuck I love you so much. _

_ Rhys: I’m flying home in two days. _

_ Rhys: This isn’t over. _

_ Feyre: BYE LOSER _

I put my phone away and finished cleaning up feeling lighter than air. Rhys rarely double or tripled texted. He was typically so composed. Having him even just the tiniest bit undone had me in a major upswing. I practically danced my way out the studio - my dad’s giant landscape in tow.

“What is that?” Nesta asked from the driver’s seat as I carefully placed the canvas across the back seat of her car.

“It’s for dad,” I said. “A house-warming gift. I thought we could take it over as an early Christmas surprise.”

Nesta shrugged, not fighting me. It must have been my lucky day indeed. I smiled all the way to dad’s new apartment and if Nesta cared, she didn’t ask why.

For being a rather older complex, dad’s apartment felt new. Even the gate letting us in was shiny with fresh paint and didn’t squeak or shake as it rolled softly open when Nesta punched the access code into the receiver.

He’d only gotten a one-bedroom. At first it seemed odd to me, him downsizing smaller and smaller every time he moved. But it made sense. We were all grown up now, moved out. And it wasn’t like dad was one to entertain guests.

I stayed over the first night he moved in. Nesta thought it was silly, but I just couldn’t leave him alone. We stayed up late until our eyes were sore from staring at the tv and in the morning, he made breakfast while I decorated the fake Christmas tree we’d gotten on sale at Big Lots. He gave me a hug before I left for work - a hug I could still feel and remember on my skin.

“Why is Elain here?”

“Huh?”

Nesta pulled up in front of dad’s building. He was on the top floor to the left. His door was open.

And Elain was walking out of it looking like she’d just seen a ghost.

“Oh, she’s just bringing some plants over for dad. You know, dress the place up a bit. Look - see.”

Her car, parked a few spaces down, had the trunk still open and it was loaded with a fresh round of flowers from the nursery Elain prefered.

“I guess….” Nesta parked, staring up at Elain.

My sister stood at the stairs with her phone held out in front of her. She wasn’t touching the screen. Just standing. And staring.

Her eyes caught on to us and went huge.

“Go get the rest of the plants from the trunk,” Nesta said, parking the car. It was a command, not a request.

“But-”

“Feyre, just do it!”

Nesta sprang out of the car and dashed up the stairs toward Elain. And that’s when immediately, the question that should have been a warning, an alert, sprang to mind:  _ Where’s dad? _

By the time I had the yellow daisies - Elain’s favorite - in hand and was halfway up the stairs, I could see my sister shaking. No - Elain was  _ crying _ . Nesta had gone inside. Elain spotted me and her voice was a crack in the earth.

“F-Feyre,” she said.

I reached the landing, barely, and set the daisies down. I was beginning to lose awareness of anything other than my sister standing before me and the open door just behind her that Nesta was now barreling through. “What happened?” I asked, looking at Nesta.

For the first time, my oldest sister looked not just scared, but terrified.

She didn’t say anything. Long enough for me to notice the dirt and flowers that had spilled all over the entry way. Had Elain dropped them? My stomach plummeted off what felt like an internal cliff and I took a step forward. Nesta blocked me.

“Nesta-”

“No,” she said, strangled yet firm. She grabbed me by the arms. “No, Feyre - go to the car. Now. Wait for mom to get here.”

“Nesta, what happened? Where’s dad?” It was nearly a shout.

“Feyre,  _ please _ .” Her voice shook. “Do this for me - just this one time.”

“Let me inside.”

“Feyre-”

“Let me inside!”

She didn’t have a choice as I threw all my weight against her and forced myself past. Nesta screamed for me - actually  _ screamed _ . I had no idea what Elain did, if anything.

All I knew as I ran inside, was that my dad was in some kind of trouble.

My footsteps carried me straight to his bedroom. It was a tiny apartment - smaller than mine. I didn’t have to really look around the living and kitchen spaces to know he wasn’t there even if a glance would have been enough. Somehow, I just knew he was in his room and that what I was about to find was going to be bad.  _ Awful _ . Irreparable.

My pulse pounded in my ears as I grabbed the doorknob and twisted.

“Feyre!” was the last thing I heard as Nesta grabbed my shoulder and tried to turn me back, but it was too late. I’d already seen.

The rope he’d used was hanging on by a few threads. I vaguely wondered why God had seen fit to wait until his heart had stopped beating for the cord to then decide he was too much weight to carry.

No blood.

No mess.

Just my dad and his skin paler than I’d ever known someone’s skin could be.

His body turned, swinging gently in the air, and I saw his face one last time. Eyes open and… empty. All that clarity and light gone.

_ Promise me you’ll try… _

_ Remember that she loves you… _

“Dad?”

Nesta’s arms wrapped around me, yanking me back and out of the room. The dirt littering the floor was the last thing I saw before I tumbled out of my sister’s hold and passed out.

* * *

_ Nesta - _

_ Sweetheart, where are you? It’s been weeks. _

_ What’s wrong? _

_ Please talk to me. _

_ Cassian _


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre struggles to process her dad's death, but finds help in an unlikely person. Nesta finally writes Cassian back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next several chapters were written months ago before I'd written anything of the opening chapters. And because I'm a lazy editor, I apologize if any of this doesn't quite add up with what's already been established, but I'm hoping I fixed enough to make it work.

When I woke up the next morning, the house was utterly quiet. Though, somehow, I knew Nesta and Elain were sleeping somewhere close by. I didn’t know where mom was, but it wouldn’t be further than the front door.

Home. Someone had brought me home.

Minutes dragged on in complete silence before I managed to roll over or even open my eyes. If either of my sisters were awake, I had no idea. And when I finally did manage to prise open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling, I immediately wanted to close them again with how much the sunlight peeled into the layers of redness and pain lingering at the edges from hours and hours of tears. The intensity of the light seemed almost offensive at how joyful and warm it was on a day that my body felt so cold inside, so… dead. Like him.

He was dead.

And no one said anything. I couldn’t even hear the static hum of some odd electric device or other.

I rolled back over and went right back to sleep.

* * *

“Feyre?”

I shuddered, pulling the covers already wound so tight around me even closer to my chin.

“Feyre… please.” Elain’s voice was so small and far away even standing right next to me. So I opened my eyes. The sunlight was gone. And Elain had lain a hand on my shoulder. “Mom wants to talk to us,” Elain said. “All of us.” She sighed at the threat of my eyes closing shut again. “It won’t take long.”

The last thing in the world I wanted was to get out of bed. But looking at Elain, she was still in her pajamas - clean and well pressed, though they were. Little lady bugs crawled up along the stitching to meet big teaming blossoms of flowers Elain probably knew the scientific terms for along her hips. She hadn’t brushed her hair.

Somewhere in the void, I casted a line and reeled in some semblance of an answer.

“You promise?”

Her lips twitched and she helped me up. She led me down the stairs from my attic room where nothing but a bed was left - we all only had just a bed here now.

When I turned the corner into the kitchen following a few steps behind Elain, it was Nesta standing at the counter, not mom. She had a kettle in one hand and was pouring steaming, hot water into a single mug already steeping with tea. One look at the table and the three other mugs sitting cold told me I was the last to join the meeting. I couldn’t quit look at mom, who stared into her untouched tea. She couldn’t quite look at me either.

“Feyre.”

Nesta’s call took me by surprise. I’d been staring at mom - at her tea. And now Nesta was offering me the cup she’d filled. It was a second before I registered the movements of how to take it and to my own shame, I was still surprised even in a moment like this that Nesta didn’t snap at me for the hesitation. Instead, she looked at me with something like understanding even if we both knew she herself felt nothing of what I felt over… over him.

Mom took a deep breath and it was enough to make all three of us sit. She folded her hands gingerly on the table in front of her. I took a sip of tea trying to prepare myself and savored the soothing taste of honey I found waiting for me in the cup.

The seconds ticked by before she spoke. No one argued. For once.

“Obviously…” she began, still chewing on her own thoughts. “This is not easy for a… variety of reasons.” I found myself watching Nesta raise a single, calculated eyebrow and wondered what kind of judgment she was passing in her head, a verdict already being given. “But first and foremost, I want you three to know that no matter what happens, no matter what we do from here, we are in this together. And you will have anything you need. Whatever you need.” She paused and looked tentatively from each of us. I don’t think she’d ever looked so old to me in her life - not in the way age takes years from a person’s skin and bones, but the way that exhaustion and stress do. The way the light had left her eyes.

Dad’s eyes had been empty of light too in the end. I shook my head.

“We get through this together,” she began again, her gaze landing on me last. “Okay?”

_ I’m not leaving this time _ , is what she really seemed to say.

Again, I found myself unable to hold mom’s stare and turning to Nesta who was watching me cooly, head held high with so much more poise than the awful fear I felt leeching into my bones.

Mom and I had spent months rebuilding some semblance of trust. When she had turned up in the hospital over winter, it was like watching God himself send an angel of mercy back into my life with everything I needed. Mom had always come through when the situation was dire enough and now that she was looking at me - her eyes glossy and her cheeks flushed as though she sat with the same worry and anxiety I was feeling again - I was so full of sorrow to think that I still doubted her faith in this family.

And Nesta knew it. I could tell in the way she leveled herself at me in that piercing glare of hers. And for once it didn’t feel like a threat or a punishment to receive it. It felt more like… an equal giving me permission to be honest. Maybe that was all Nesta ever wanted. Maybe that was why she was so brash and unashamed of herself. She was just being honest.

I remembered what dad had told me. About how she and mom just communicated differently. I tried to remember dad had said that. Said. Once.

I nodded - more at Nesta than anything - and turned back to mom and said as confidently as I could, “Okay,” but it still came out quiet and mumbled. Elain, whom I’d almost forgot was sitting with us, let out an audible sigh that mirrored the way mom’s chest deflated.

“So,” mom said, still cautious, “I also want you to know that we have as much time as we want to deal with this. The hospital told me there is no rush especially with… the time of year.” A pang went through my heart. I’d forgotten all about Christmas. “We don’t have to decide anything now about services, burial, cremation… anything until the new year. But if at any point you girls have an opinion about how you want things to proceed from here, I welcome it.”

So diplomatic. Almost in every careful word she chose avoiding the reality the way my own thoughts fought constantly to do as well.

Again, her eyes fell on me last making it clear that it wouldn’t matter what Elain or Nesta wanted. Or maybe even what she wanted. And I realized suddenly what I had known for most of my life. That sitting here discussing his death, out of the four people who mattered most to him in the entire world, I was the only one who truly, truly cared that he was gone because of how it affected me and my own love for him, and not because of how it affected everyone else.

_ Oh dad... _

My eyes stung and just as mom continually looked at me, I looked at Nesta. For some reason, I kept coming back to her over and over again. She’d made the tea. She’d given us permission to talk. She’d come back to help me when mom had left even if it was in her own turbulent way.

And part of me just didn’t want to let go of what dad had told me about understanding her. He’d said it mostly about mom. But he’s said it about Nesta too.

The twinkle of lights from the living room caught my eye and I turned toward the tree, my face crumpling to keep the tears from falling. Santa himself could have landed an entire herd of reindeer on the roof and I don’t think any of us would have heard him. Underneath the table, a foot brushed against my skin and I shut my eyes.

“I think we should wait,” I said and went back to mom when finally I could feel the soreness behind my eyes subside enough to look at them all again.

Whether out of genuine interest or purely for posterity’s sake, mom looked at my sisters. Nesta remained silent, but Elain piped up with a soft smile, “I agree with Feyre.”

“Alright,” mom said. “We’ll wait. Do any of you need-”

“No,” Nesta said, speaking at last. And the word was sharp enough that it stopped mom from finishing the thought. She didn’t reproach her though. Nesta had too much of her own fire and steel for mom to misconstrue it. It was why they’d always gotten along best out of the four of us.

“I’m going to sit out in the garden for a while, work on this tea a little.” She already sounded lighter leaving the kitchen to step out into the backyard - relieved, I imagined, now that the deed was done.

As the patio door shut, I found myself staring back at the Christmas tree knowing that in less than a week, we’d be opening Christmas presents without him.

My heart dropped out of my stomach.

Christmas without dad.

Mom had gone outside.

Christmas. Without dad.

And mom had just gone outside.

I must have said or done something I wasn’t aware of because even as I could feel my body stiffening, frozen at every inch, Nesta had stood suddenly and planted herself in front of me taking my hands in her own. “Up,” she said - a firm command again. But I still saw her in a haze of confusion.

Christmas without dad. Christmas  _ without dad. _

_ No, no, no, no, no, no _ , my mind relentlessly raged.

“Up - Feyre.” Nesta caught my jaw, moved it squarely out of sight of the tree until I was looking at her. “Up, now please.” Her eyes weren’t quite as brown as I’d always pictured them. A certain amber caught the center right around the pupils and it was warm. Somehow, I stood.

And Elain did not follow as Nesta led me up, up, up the stairs and not to my room, but hers. Where no one would dare follow without her express invitation. Where it would be safe, I realized, as she pulled me onto the bed and swung my legs over her lap as I began to crumple against her and sob.

I knew she didn’t care half as much as I did that dad had died. That she would never miss him like I would. That if anything, the grief Nesta would feel at some point in her life would revolve around the emptiness he’d left in her heart over years and years of an unfulfilling relationship with him. Of all the ways in which he had frustrated her.

But it didn’t matter then as she held me and ran her hands up and down my back, letting me soak her t-shirt with tears and snot and grief. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her wear a plain, normal shirt like this, all cotton and not some silky fabric I was always too messy to dare wearing myself.

No, Nesta held me and let me cry my heart out as I muttered over and over and over again, “He’s gone.... He’s gone…”

“I know,” she’d say sometimes or simply offer a quiet, soothing  _ sush _ . But mostly she was just quiet and let me cry well past the hour we heard Elain’s door close one wall over. When finally I’d gone still enough to function again, I blinked open my eyes and began searching for something to wipe the  _ ick _ on my face away with, but even in the dim, dim lighting of the room, my eyes fell back on Nesta’s shirt.

Nesta had leaned her head back against the headboard and closed her eyes, but I didn’t think she was quite asleep.

“Ness?” I whispered.

“What is it, Feyre?”

Firm. That’s what I liked about Nesta. Everything about her was firm.

“Is this Cassian’s shirt?”

A pause, and then… “The tissues are in the drawer. And there’s an extra blanket at the foot of the bed.”

We untangled ourselves and Nesta simply sank down onto the bed properly to let me sleep next to her. In my entire life, I think I’d maybe spent no more than a combined ten or fifteen  _ minutes _ in Nesta’s bedroom before now. Those minutes tonight, despite all the sorrow and silence, were undoubtedly the best.

* * *

_ Cassian, _

_ My apologies for not writing to you sooner. I… I don’t know what to do. _

_ My parents decided to get divorced over Thanksgiving. And then my dad killed himself. And now I’m so lost. I’m so confused. Because I feel so guilty, Cass. _

_ I don’t know how to help Feyre. She hasn’t been the same since all of you left. I don’t think it’s just Rhys being in New York. I think he could be here and it still might not matter. Sometimes I look at her and I think I’m looking at a living ghost. Her eyes go dark. I can see her thinking too much, but I never know what to say to pull her out of it. I thought living together might help, but she only seems to pull further and further away. _

_ And now dad’s gone. I don’t understand the pain she’s feeling. I know what it is on a surface level. It’s like watching a poem come alive. I can read the literal words and know it’s pain. But where it stems from, how it manifests, is a mystery to me. My sister is a mystery and I don’t know how to solve her. _

_ She hurts, Cassian. She hurts so much. All the time. She slept for hours after we found dad. I tried to stop her from seeing him, but she’s so stubborn and insistent. I guess it’s one of the few things her and I have in common. When I saw dad hanging in his room, it was like my entire body went cold and I couldn’t breathe or think or feel because the only image in my mind was Feyre. What she would do. _

_ It makes me hate him. I don’t even care if that’s wrong. Feyre is good. And she loved him so much. But he did this to her without thinking how it would hurt her. When she finally woke up after hours and hours of sleeping, she sobbed into my arms all night long. She wouldn’t stop crying. I didn’t know what to say to her. Cassian - what do I say? What do I do? How do I help her? She and dad are so alike in so many ways. I don’t want this to break her the way it broke him. _

_ I miss you. I miss you so much it aches. You always know what to say. How to reach people. That’s why you won those clothes in the fights. That’s why you’re top of the class. You’re strong physically. But it’s your heart that’s getting you places. It makes everything else about you just work. It makes me love you when I don’t know how to love anyone. _

_ Cassian… I don’t know what to do anymore. What do I do? _

_ Nesta _


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited Christmas reunion for Feyre and Rhys!

The next morning was easier for about two minutes waking up in Nesta’s room until I remembered why I was there and the fact that dad had been gone for more than twenty-four hours now.

_ Fuck me _ .

I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want to even exist, there was too much pain standing in the way. And every ounce of fresh sunlight that poured into the room was another needle weaving scars on my heart that weighed me down into the blankets Nesta had wrapped me in, begging me to stay and never get up.

Nesta, however, felt differently.

“Would you please,” she said behind me on the other side of the bed, “go shut your  _ ridiculous boyfriend the hell up _ . _ Fuck. _ ” She rolled over onto her other side, taking the groggy piss in her tone with her and I sat up out of pure confusion until I heard it. Across the hall above us in my attic room - my phone was pinging from a certain influx of text messages. I hadn’t checked it since… since I didn’t know when.

Immediately I bolted for my room and unlocked my phone. Sure enough, messages flooded my inbox, but I opened Rhys’s first. There were no less than fifty texts. I didn’t want to look at how many times he might have called me or what the voicemails might be like. Something about the thought made me uneasy.

I scrolled to the top to the very first messages. I didn’t know who had told him about dad but it was clear that someone had because he clearly knew what had happened. When it was obvious I wasn’t able to answer, his texts were a range of comfort. But it was what he’d sent late in the evening when I’d been sobbing on Nesta’s shoulder that made me pause and threatened to bring the tears rushing back to my eyes:

_ 9:47pm: I love you. You don’t have to call me or say anything. But Feyre - you’re not alone. _

_ 9:47pm: Don’t say anything if you don’t want to. Don’t believe anyone who tells you you have to feel something. Feel whatever you want or fuck it and don’t feel anything at all. _

_ 9:47pm: There is no wrong way to feel. _

_ 9:48pm: I love you. Please just know that I love you. _

_ 9:49pm: I love you. _

_ 9:51pm: I’m getting on a red-eye in twenty minutes. I’ll be home in the morning. I’m not going to stop telling you I love you until the flight attendant takes my phone away. _

I sat bolt upright on my bed, my fingers glued to the phone. I checked the clock.

_ 8:37am _

A rush went through me as I realized he might have already landed. Might already be here in the same city somewhere. At the airport. At home.  _ But where, where, where was he?! _ Desperately, my fingers scrolled past the stream of love to find him in the here and now.

_ 7:05am: Landed! And I still love you, even if the flight attendant who took my phone away was kind of sexy. ;) _

_ 7:05am: But still love you. _

_ 7:06am: Do you want to pick me up? Dad is out of town at that conference in Denver still. _

_ 7:06am: No fuck it, I called a Lyft. As soon as I’m off this miserable plane I’m running through to baggage claim and driving straight over to you. _

_ 7:27am: Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh traffic. You better be worth the hassle of this accident on the 405 or I’m going back to the airport and finding that flight attendant. _

I laughed. A true and genuine, unabated laugh. Where Nesta had given me the space to be honest with how I felt, Rhys was there to do what she couldn’t - to give me the space to figure out how I was going to  _ live _ again.

He hadn’t sent anything since that last text save one last ‘I love you’ and when I scrolled back to where I’d previously left off with him boarding the flight, I found a string of ‘I love you’ texts clear up until he took off. There was one for every single minute he was there. And suddenly, with a fresh stab of pain, I recognized that it wasn’t just my own grief he was acknowledging, but his own. It wasn’t quite like him to be so discomposed in a moment like this, and yet here he was spilling his heart out to me and asking nothing in return. I wondered, how much had he wished he could have had the chance to go back and give his mom and sister just one more ‘I love you’ before he never could again?

“Rhys,” I said. Breathed the word into the open air. “Rhys, where - where…” I looked up. It’d been an hour since that last text. I had to find him. He was on his way over to me, but I felt useless sitting in my room waiting. Somehow, I had to find him. Needed to touch and feel him and never let him go until I could stand on my own two feet again.

I tore out of my room in nothing more than my thin pajamas, past Nesta and Elain and even mom’s still shut doors, and tore down the stairs. I could already feel the chill from outside nipping at me, but I didn’t care enough to grab a sweater. I grabbed the first pair of shoes from the basket I could find and slipped them on, not bothering to check if they were mine or Nesta’s or anybody’s. All I wanted was to get to Rhys.

But I’d left my phone upstairs. I’d never hope to find him faster without it, so I silently cursed myself and turned to march back to the attic and retrieve it just as a car door slammed outside.

I froze and stared at the door in disbelief until I saw a shadow through the window move on the porch.

When I flung the door open, he was there. Standing tall with a suitcase by his side and drained of color, his eyes tired and haunted. I doubted he had managed to sleep a single minute on the plane. His backpack dropped immediately off his arm the second he saw me and I wasted no time rushing into his arms. “I love you too,” I said and pulled him into me until our lips were crashing over one another and his arms were wrapped around me in a steel grip that wasn’t likely to let go anytime soon.

_ Rhys. My Rhys. He was here. _

_ Finally, we were together. _

I melted at every touch. Every caress of his lips and tongue and hands -  _ fuck, his hands. _ They were so cold, but every single bit of contact they made slipping under my top to hold me felt like a fire swimming behind them. For the first time since everything had happened, I felt a small piece of calm return and I didn’t mind that I knew it was only temporary. That the darkness would eventually pour back into me. For now, he was enough. He was so much more than enough.

When his lips pulled back, I cried out and he immediately cupped my face, smoothing his thumb over one of my cheeks. “Feyre - Feyre, stop,” he said as I tried to re-connect. “You’re crying, babe.”

I let him hold me, let his hands slide down from my chin to my neck while he waited patiently for me to be ready. And when I blinked my eyes open, he was watching me with more worry than I think I’d ever seen in those lovely, violet eyes of his. “I-I’m sorry,” I sniffled. He shook his head. “I didn’t realize - didn’t mean to-”

“Never apologize for crying,” Rhys replied, leaning his forehead against mine. “Not to me.”

He kissed a tear away and I shivered. I held on to him scared that he too would leave me somehow. “I’m surprised you haven’t left by now. You could probably catch that flight attendant before she leaves for Bermuda or something.”

A relieved, quiet chuckle escaped him. “So you did get my text messages then?”

“Worried I was doubting your love?”

“Never.” He leaned down and indulged me in one more kiss, this time soft and slow and steady. All the things my life always seemed to be missing save for when it came to him. “Good,” he said when he was finished. “I was worried fifty “I love you’s’ might sound a bit needy.”

“Only fifty?” I made an unimpressed shift of my head. “I don’t know. Tamlin once told me I smelled nice like a hundred times and that was pretty impressive-”

“Shut up,” he said and flicked me on the nose, but I had no time to laugh as he scooped me up in his arms and carried me toward the door, but I protested.

“Can we just… sit out here for a while maybe?”

He lifted his brow. “Feyre it’s freezing out here - by California’s standards at least. And you’re barely wearing anything. Not that I mind. I can see your nipples through your top, but I hardly doubt the neighbors would appreciate me taking advantage of that on the front porch.”

I blushed and was happy to know that even for as heartbroken as I was, I could still feel things like embarrassment and love with Rhys. I knew that if he stopped touching me for a single second, it would all disappear again, but for the here and now it was enough to carry me through one moment after another. And that was all I needed.

Grief, I was beginning to see, was going to be a weird, tricky process.

“Be that as it may,” I said, though I didn’t cover up my boobs and Rhys definitely noticed that I didn’t with an appreciate feline smirk at them, “I don’t want to go back inside. Everyone is sleeping and it’s nice being able to talk without worrying about being interrupted.”

“It’s a deal.” And just like that, we were sitting on the two front porch steps, the only two there were, letting the early morning breeze tickle our skin. Almost as soon as Rhys sat, he let me sink down next to him, still holding my hand, and very seriously faced me, his face drawn in hard lines. “So. What number?”

I considered. “I don’t know that there is a number for what this feels like, but now that you’re here I think I feel enough to be back on the scale somewhere.”

“That’s good. Progress,” he said nodding. “And when you take away all the sex appeal and burning desire my face inspires in you… where are you at?”

“Maybe like a… like a three?”

“Oof.”

“Yeah. Oof.”

“Feyre,” and just the simple way he said my name - so like Nesta with her firm grounding in the world - I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to. “Even if you fell to a one, I want you to know that’s not the bottom. And the only way you could get to the bottom - I don’t even want to think about that because it would mean you wouldn’t even be here. But, what I’m trying to say is that if your soul ever gets to that point where you think it’s the end and you can’t take it anymore, please know that it’s not. And that I’ll help you rebuild, one number at a time.”

I blinked and found fresh tears covering my cheeks and with them, fresh kisses savoring each one. “I know,” I said. “I don’t always know, but I… I know.” I made a sound that was some kind of cross between a sniffle and a laugh, shaking my head as Rhys continued to watch me carefully. “I’m not making any sense.”

“Feyre,” he said, his voice falling soft. “Your father just died. You don’t have to make any sense.”

It was the first time someone had said the truth to me out loud. But coming from Rhys, I somehow didn’t mind hearing it the way I would have from anyone else.

Dead. My dad was dead.

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

“Though,” he said, taking on that cheeky air he tormented me with. “I’m sure Mor would appreciate a text back at some point to let her know you aren’t holed up in a cave somewhere living on Cheetos.”

“I think she’d be damn proud of me for living on Cheetos, actually - oh shit, Mor!” I hadn’t even thought to check anyone else’s texts or phone calls. Knowing Mor, my phone was probably more flooded with her calls than Rhys’s texts.

“Relax!” Rhys said. “I made her promise not to bombard you with more than was strictly necessary. I told her I’d handle it and let her know if anything happened for the worse.”

I fixed him with a bewildered stare. “And your way of ‘handling’ it was in the form of a million panicked and worried text messages?”

“Well… you know me. I like to keep it loose between us. Don’t want you thinking I’m getting clingy.”

His words were light, but there was a downturn to his tone that reminded me of what I’d realized before, what had made me want to rush to him lightning quick when I realized he’d gotten on that plane. “Are you okay?” I said cupping his chin. Our faces were inches apart. And I think he understood my meaning.

Rhys swallowed sounding a little hoarse suddenly. “Yeah, I’m okay. If you’re okay, I’m okay.”

“Number?”

He snorted and kissed my brow quickly. “Now that I’m here and with you, ten. Without a doubt. Anywhere with you is a ten.”

I wished so much I could say the same even if in so many ways I could. Being with Rhys - really, truly being with him like we were now was always a ten. There was nowhere and nothing better than this. I often felt the same way when I was with Mor or when all of us were together with Cassian and Azriel. So why then did this blot on my heart that carried nothing but dread and sorrow and the desire to just  _ stop _ have to remain even when I was surrounded by so much happiness?

“Speaking of Mor, she’s flying in in two days. She just has one more final to go and then she’s peacing out of Seattle. She wanted to fly down the second I texted her what had happened, but her professor was more of a dick than mine about it.”

“She actually asked her professor to let her out of her final?!”

“Damn straight she did,” Rhys said and looked proud as hell of his cousin. “But the professor didn’t feel like making up a new exam just for her or giving her an alternative since she - stupidly - admitted it wasn’t  _ her _ father who had died.”

I pulled back and stared at him aghast. “Please tell me you didn’t tell your professors it was  _ your _ father who died? How the heck are you here anyway, don’t you still have finals to take?”

And there it was - that easy, cool smirk Rhys always wore dancing around ever ready to tease the entire world into bowing for him. “Nah, it was easy. My last final’s supposed to be this afternoon, but it’s an in-class essay. I told my professor a family member died and I had to leave on the next available flight. She’s sending me an alternative paper topic and giving me twenty-four hours to send her my paper.” His face pinched, displeased. “So I’m afraid I’m going to become quite boring for a couple of hours this evening. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” I said with something of a smile blooming on my face. I couldn’t believe he’d done it for me. “Take all the time you need. Nesta’s been taking good care of me, so I’ll be in one piece when you get back.”

“Oh I’m not going anywhere. I’ll write it here with you sitting in my lap if I have to. And - you’re getting along with Nesta?”

I nodded.

_ “Gasp!” _

I chuckled and rested my head on his shoulder, staring out into the street. His arm went round my back and I loved how his chest fell in relief as it did. “She’s been surprisingly… wonderful the last few days. I think she gets it more than anyone even if it’s in a different sort of way. She’s tough, but there’s a heart in there somewhere.”

“Huh,” he said. “Who knew.”

“How on earth is it that Mor is coming home? I would have thought she’d stay up north with Az for Christmas.”

“Nah, dad would prefer her home - boyfriend or no. He’s still a little weird about them living together instead of dorming it up like a normal freshmen kid, but he loves her too much to say anything. I think he feels like he gets a second chance with her in some ways, so he doesn’t push too much, but he’s not letting her out of Christmas.”

“And Az is staying? For his internship?” Rhys nodded. “Aww, but - but!”

“I know, but don’t worry. She’ll live. Believe it or not, you’re just as important to her as he is. I think she’ll be quite happy to see you.”

“Mmm,” I hummed. “I feel like a four now.”

Rhys scoffed, all mock offense. “I drop my final, fly across the entire country, smother you with the best damn reunion kiss of your life and you don’t go up a single number. But I merely  _ mention _ Mor is coming for Christmas and suddenly you’re all sunshine and roses?! Feyre, I’m not going to pretend that doesn’t hurt.”

I giggled and looked up at him, stroking his face. “You better go find that flight attendant then and catch the flight to-”

His impending kiss shut me right up.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre is back together again with Rhys and Mor, but Rhys's dad has other plans that might rip them back apart for the holidays until some last minute decisions surprise everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I've been so terrible at updating lately. I haven't wanted to work on this fic for a while, but I promise I won't give up!

The good news was that Rhys and Mor were coming home for Christmas break. The bad news was they were leaving almost immediately after Mor’s flight to go to Colorado where Rhys’s dad was snowed in during his work meetings. The blizzard that had come in overnight was keeping the airport from operating, but the roads were open enough that by the time Rhys and Mor could drive over, they’d be clear to make it through to Rhys’s dad who figured a family Christmas in Aspen wasn’t such a terrible idea.

I wasn’t super inclined to disagree with him either. Christmas in Aspen did sound appealing for anyone, I imagined. Not just people looking to forget their real lives for a few days.

So there I was left with only three days to spend with the two most important people in my life. Three days and already my stomach was in knots over the bleakness I knew would be waiting for me on the other side. Although Rhys and Mor certainly didn’t see it that way.

“Ughhh, your dad sucks!” Mor made no move to even pretend she wasn’t flat out whining. “I’m staying here. I don’t care what he says.”

“Mor,” Rhys warned.

“Save it, Rhys.” Mor plopped down on the other side of me on the couch and blatantly stole my hands out of Rhys’s so she could hold them and rest her head on my shoulder. “I’m staying with Feyre.” Rhys groaned, but with Mor being… well, Mor, after ages without her, I found only a small ounce of pity for the shitstorm I knew he would face with his dad if Mor got her way. “She’s way more fun, we can stay up all night talking and ragging on your annoying face, and she’s way prettier to look at. I’m staying.”

I laughed, but opposed her all the same. “I’ll be fine, geez,” I said even knowing that likely wasn’t true. In reality, I was worried I’d fall to pieces the second they left regardless of how Nesta was acting lately. “You’ll only be gone a week and when you get back you’ll be here for another week before you have to go back to Seattle. It’s fine.”

It really wasn’t fine. But.

“OH MY GOSH!” Mor screamed the words suddenly, loud enough I thought the neighbors across the street might hear. She flew off the couch and into the air fast as bullet. “I HAVE THE BEST IDEA!”

“Morrigan - holy fuck!” Rhys said. It was really more of a groan as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Where’s your phone?!” Mor tackled her cousin, practically digging in his pants for him to fish his phone out of his pockets. She was more aggressive than I’d ever seen Cassian or Az on the football field and that was truly saying something. “Rhysand where is it?! I NEED IT!”

“Will you -  _ shit, woman! _ ”

“Mor,” I said, laughing and falling over to get out of the way of the elbows flying at me. For a few brief, shining moments, the world felt halfway normal again. At long last, Rhys dug his phone out and Mor snatched it.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling your dad.”

“What on earth - why? How the hell do you even know my pass code?”

Mor shot him a look that said ‘ _Oh_ _please’_ and quickly pulled up her uncle’s number in the contacts. “I don’t even know his pass code,” I admitted.

Mor snickered. “It’s coded for  _ K-I-T-T-E-N-S _ ,” she said and stuck her tongue out at Rhys. He glared daggers at her, but there was a tinge of red on his cheeks I was highly amused by.

“Kittens?” I snickered.

Rhys shrugged, but blushed further in a way that only Mor could pull out of him. “What? They’re cute!”

I snorted - right as Rhys’s dad picked up the phone. Mor ran out of the room before Rhys could steal the phone away, and we both collapsed back into the cushions somewhat winded. Rhys rubbed a hand over his face looking drained - more mentally than anything.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love every minute of this,” I said.

“She’s going to be the death of me one day, I know it,” Rhys replied. But when he looked over at me, a smile cracked his face.

Rhys and I were waiting for Mor to pick her up at the airport when she’d flown in and I’d never seen anyone run so fast through baggage claim to get to us. To  _ me _ . I nearly fell to the floor she’d tackled me so aggressively, ignoring Rhys completely. “I’ve been replaced,” he’d said before hauling us up when he spotted security walking over to make sure a bomb wasn’t about to go off.

From there it had been business as usual. It had only been little less than two days, but I’d spent nearly every second between waking and sleeping with them both. I still hadn’t talked to Mor about my dad and she hadn’t asked one single word about it, but I knew just in the way she smiled at me and fed me marshmallows and all the stupid, inane things Mor did that she would let me bring it up if I needed to.

It was obvious in the way she glued herself to my side. I had barely even had time to catch a moment alone with Rhys and that bothered me. I was hoping we could talk before he left on the trip. Maybe see if he and his dad had had a chance to patch things up about school and prompt him into a discussion if they hadn’t.

And it was in no way, shape, or form a trick to distract myself from talking about my own life.  _ Nope _ .

Mor wasn’t gone as long as I’d anticipated her to be, returning to the living room within just a few minutes of taking the call, a huge grin splitting her face in two. “It’s official!” she squawked. “You’re coming with us!”

“She’s what?!” Rhys said, looking more amused than shocked. Really, when I thought about it, Mor  _ would _ try to pull a stunt off like this.

“I’m what?!” I exclaimed. A little thrill of excitement chased through me dashing miles ahead of the dawning realization this would never work.

“YOU’RE COMING TO ASPEN!” She shuddered, looking like a kid on Christmas who’d just opened the Barbie mansion. In some ways, she kind of had.

“Mor,” and I bit my lip. She cut me off at once, taking her level of hype down about ten notches.

“Don’t you start with me Feyre,” she said, suddenly all serious. “You either!” And pointed at Rhys. “Your dad is totally, one-hundred and ten-thousand percent cool with it.”

“You realize that percentage makes about zero sense, right?” Rhys said.

Mor glared, but ignored him again. “Seriously, though,” and she sat down with great care next to me. “He’s totally chill about it.”

“Give me my phone,” Rhys said, not waiting for Mor to hand it over and snatching it right out of her hand. He walked out of the room with it pressed to his ear.

“Mor, I can’t just go with you to Aspen, though don’t think I don’t appreciate the offer.”

“But it’s fine! Rhys’s dad doesn’t care. He actually sounded a little disappointed he didn’t think to extend the offer to you first. You’re welcome to come!”

I sighed, a little deflated. Turning Mor down when she was this exuberant and ambitious was difficult work. I had no idea how Az handled it day after day (though I doubted he minded half as much as Rhys). “It’s not that,” I said. “It’s just… it’s Christmas. The first Christmas. And while a trip sounds nice to not think about things… my mom isn’t gonna want me to leave her and the girls.”

Mor opened her mouth ready to let the arguments fly, but stopped short. “Oh,” was all she said.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” She fell back on the couch, her hopes and dreams positively dashed. “I didn’t think about that. Damn it - I’m so sorry, Feyre. I didn’t think, I just-”

“I know. I get it.” I laced my hand with hers. “It’s fine. I’m delighted you went to such efforts to include me. It feels nice.”

And it did feel nice. I was probably an idiot for always assuming people didn’t care about me. I knew in my heart they did, but it was nice to have tangible reminders of it sitting right next to me that I could see every day compared to texts and emails that sometimes felt distant or misconstrued.

In truth I was a little angry I wouldn’t be able to go. The honesty of my less than selfless emotions startled me. While I did feel downright guilty as dirt at the thought of leaving my family for the week of Christmas in the wake of my dad’s… incident, the idea of leaving for some fresh air and snow and something to knock the chill right out of me sounded like just what I needed.

No more miserable, quiet house to stay in? No more mom avoiding us at every turn like she might see the ghost of her late husband in her daughter’s eyes? No more relying on texts and Saturday morning phone calls to barely keep in touch with the people I cared about?

_ Yes please! _

And the idea of delaying goodbye with Rhys and Mor? Infinitely wonderful.

But I could never do that to my family. As much as running away from my problems and escaping the world was exactly what my soul longed to do, family guilt was powerful enough to cripple me first.

Rhys took much longer on the phone with his dad than Mor did, but Mor cut him off before he could even start, acting as though the sky had fallen. “Don’t!” she said, holding up a hand to him. “She can’t go. I know she can’t go. Don’t make it worse by telling me your dad is really the secret precious puppy dog he is who wants her to come despite whatever stupid reasons you invented to tell him she shouldn’t or can’t.”

“Mor-”

“No Rhys, don’t. Don’t make it worse.” Mor sniffled as though she might cry. But really, I could see her eyes were as dry as a dead well in summer. She promptly hid them behind a shaking hand. “I already know you and the universe don’t want her and I to be together. It’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll deal.”

“Morrigan, dad  _ is _ okay with her coming. He’s okay with a lot more actually, but…” I looked up at him, confused, as was Mor. “It’s your call Feyre.”

A twinkle blazed in Mor’s eyes. “What did you do?” she asked all too calm before slinking off the couch and scrambling up to him. “What did you do, cousin?! What do you mean he’s  _ okay with a lot more _ ?! TELL ME!”

Rhys took a huge breath and then said with the biggest, most smug grin of his life, “No!”

“Damnit!” Mor shouted. She fell over stiff as a board onto the floor, deadpanning her anger. Dramatic. Over the top. And completely the perfect, ridiculous, sunshiney Morrigan my life had missed all these months apart.

I laughed, but was more concerned as Rhys sat with me again. “What  _ did _ you do?”

“Shall we go chat with your mom and find out?” He tried not to give too much away, but I could see the devil playing behind those violet eyes. A little confidence, maybe even hope, dared take breath in my chest.

“Okay, let’s.”

* * *

Somehow, remarkably, Rhys convinced Mor to stay behind as we drove back to my house to talk with mom. Said it was penance for all the hell she put him through. He was also unusually silent in the car, though he texted up a storm with someone while I drove, and looked quite smug about it the whole time too.

“What are you up to - really?” I asked at one red light, but he wouldn’t tell me. Simply smiled and took only enough time away from his phone to snicker, “Don’t you worry about it, Feyre darling.” And hearing the pet name from his lips in person again had my heart malfunctioning too much to focus on arguing and driving at the same time.

I felt the tension wash back over me in waves the second I opened the front door to my house. Elain was sitting on the couch and Nesta was walking in from the kitchen, but the TV wasn’t on and there wasn’t anything apparent they were doing. It was as if they were waiting for us and not knowing where mom was at made me uneasy.

For some reason, spending time with mom in the room was… difficult. We weren’t mad at each other. Far from it. But it felt like it. It felt like one wrong word and someone would erupt into tears or yelling or pain of some kind, none of it directed at the other. But just that it would be something awful we didn’t want to witness and I was terrified of experiencing it.

When Rhys had come in the morning he got back, mom only stayed long enough to acknowledge his arrival before hiding out in her room the rest of the day. We’d been staying at Rhys’s mostly ever since.

“Hi Rhys,” Elain smiled as he closed the door behind me. Nesta didn’t say a word.

“Hi-ya,” Rhys said.

“Um, where’s mom?” I said, asking Nesta in particular.

“Gardening,” Elain said when my sister didn’t answer.

“I’m here,” mom said, coming in from the kitchen as Nesta had, and presumably from the backyard beyond that, pulling her gloves off as she went. Little flecks of dirt fell to the ground like ashes in a fire. “Hi Rhys,” she said and I was so relieved to see her smile, the anxiety in me dimming some. Maybe this was progress?

Rhys nodded his hello.

“What do you want?” Nesta said, fixing him with a disinterested stare.

“Ness,” I sighed and she cut me off before I could really reproach her for still being so annoyed about my boyfriend even after all these months.

“I was in the middle of writing my dissertation and he wouldn’t stop texting me until I agreed to meet you all downstairs,” Nesta said pointedly. “So spill.”

I swiveled around and looked at Rhys, taking a step back so I could properly look at him. A sense of waiting fell over the room. If he had texted Nesta, then it wasn’t a stretch to assume he’d texted Elain too. Suddenly it made sense why there was nothing going on when we arrived.

Rhys was all ease, Nesta’s sharpness not having bothered him in the slightest, as he straightened and look at my mom. “My father called me today with an interesting proposition, I guess you could call it.”

“Oh?” my mom said and her face was visibly lighter, quite possibly even amused. At least someone in this house was just as charmed as I was by Rhys’s easy airs. “Do tell.”

“Well, he’s stuck in Colorado. He’s been there for over a week on a business trip and was supposed to be back in a couple days, but with the blizzard that rolled in, it’s a no-go. But he really enjoys having me and Mor with him for the holidays.”

“Mor doesn’t go home to her parents?” mom asked, sitting down on the arm of the loveseat. Now that she had asked, it struck me that her and Rhys had never really chatted all that much about his or Mor’s personal lives. It was odd watching them interact so… freely.

Rhys looked grim for half a beat before picking back. “No, she and her parents don’t quite see eye to eye much, but my dad dotes on her. More than he cares to admit.”

Understatement of the year.

“So do you,” I muttered under my breath. He remained as composed as ever beneath the twinkle growing in his eyes.

“My father was wondering, as someone who has been in your shoes before and knows that this might not be the most… pleasant week of your lives, if perhaps you would like to make the trip out to Colorado with us?”

Silence reigned supreme, my mother’s face going absolutely stoney in an expression I couldn’t read. Nesta’s brow hit the ceiling and she actually snorted. “What? All  _ four _ of us? Don’t you just want Feyre to go and be done with it?”

“No,” Rhys said. “We’d love it if all of you came. However, we understand if you’d rather stay. We just thought you might possibly be looking for an out, a distraction - whatever you want to call it. Mor and I aren’t leaving to drive up for another couple of days, so take time to think it over if you need. We’d be staying at a resort and our rooms are already booked, so you’re already included if you want it.”

My heart felt like it was exploding in a million different directions, the pieces flying everywhere. I had to step back to really look at this man beside me, take every piece of him in and what he was offering me. Offering my family. The idea was perfect - so damn perfect and clever. And Mor was going to  _ die _ when he told her, especially if it worked.

_ If _ it worked.

And it certainly seemed like I wasn’t the only one in the room who hoped it did. Elain was beaming, her eyes twinkling with a glaze as if she was already picturing a getaway. And Nesta’s lips were parted as she stared at Rhys with something like… something like she was impressed that they weren’t just some kind of afterthought in the idea, but “already included” Rhys had said.

But mom was very still. And once everyone remembered she was there, the charming illusion dancing in Elain’s head seemed to burst and Nesta snapped her lips shut.

“Of course, we understand if you decide not to,” Rhys said cooly. “There’s absolutely no pressure. Feyre darling, you mind if I use the bathroom before I take off?” He kissed me on the head and made for the bathroom before waiting for an answer.

Immediately, I looked to mom. “I had no idea he was going to - mom, I’m sorry. We don’t have to go if this weirds you out. I swear I didn’t know-”

“Shut up,” Nesta said. “You’re babbling. She hasn’t even said anything yet.”

“I mean it, I just don’t want you to be offended or anything. He means well.”

At last, some semblance of expression flickered on my mom’s face in the form of confusion. “Why would I be offended? It’s a very kind offer.”

I was suddenly aware of just how much more composed everyone else was than I. It made me uncomfortable, but I couldn’t stop babbling.

“I just - because, it’s like Christmas and I figure you want us to stay together here and… and…”

Mom gave a derisive snort. “What? Drown in a bottle of all our mutual sorrows?” There was an air of humor, but my face crumpled. Mom shot to her feet. “Feyre, honey,” she said taking me by the shoulders, albeit a bit awkwardly. But it was enough like when she’d flown in the first time dad went to the ER that I relaxed and realized how close I’d been to crying.

“I’m not offended. Not in the slightest.”

“You’re not?”

“No! Of course not.” She shook her head off like it was no big deal and I knew she was playing it up for my sake. “It really is a kind offer. Though I don’t think I can accept it right now.”

And despite how much she was being chill about this whole thing - which was all I wanted from her - my heart sank and my mind wanted to scream into that pitch black void at the three days I had left until Rhys and Mor would have to say goodbye again. But then -

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t go.”

“Wha - what?”

My mom’s face softened and she took a moment to look at me. Really look at me. As she moved some of the hair away from my face, I could have sworn she was counting every freckle on my nose missing each one the second she moved on to the next. I would have paid a good deal of money to know what she was thinking then. Whatever it was, it made me feel loved.

I tried not to let my confusion at the change show as mom’s hand slowly dropped away from my face.

“Honey, I think you could use a break.” She glanced over her shoulder. “We all could.” Nesta again looked surprised. “I’m just not up for a cross-country drive at the moment. I think I’ll do better here. But you’re old enough now and that boy of yours is right - this year is… different than others.” Tired. Mom sounded so tired. “If you want to go, you should go. I want what makes you happy to make you happy. All of you.”

“You’re joking,” Nesta said. And came up to stand with us. “You actually want us all to go to Colorado. With Feyre and her  _ boyfriend _ . With her boyfriend’s  _ cousin _ ?! The one who never stops talking.”

“They have names, you know,” I said.

“Nesta,” mom said, “can you please - what is it you tell me constantly? -  _ calm your tits _ .”

Elain erupted into the politest fit of giggles I’d ever heard at that.

“You’re…. You’re really serious!”

This could not be happening. No way in the world was mom going to be so chill about this.

And yet. And yet...

“Of course I’m serious. If you girls want to go, then you should go. Stay if you don’t want to. It’s not that big of a deal, but Rhys’s dad is being very kind and affording you a good chance to unwind.” She leaned forward to peer around Nesta to where Elain sat still trying to stifle her giggles behind a hand. “You can grade papers in Colorado just as easily as you can here. And I’m pretty sure your dissertation is on a portable laptop, Nessy. Though I’d encourage you not to take it.”

The room fell quiet again. How long did it take Rhys to fucking pee? I was ready for him to be back, though it was kind of nice being around mom and not feeling like she was about to have a breakdown.

But then I thought… maybe that was why she wanted us to go. So she could have a breakdown in peace the same way I had in Nesta’s room. Maybe mom needed a safe space to shut down in too and this wasn’t the weirdest outcome possible.

I looked at the gloves she had left on the table and thought of all the hours she had spent lately gardening. She hadn’t taken up that hobby for years, not since I was small.

Nesta looked at Elain pleadingly and Elain sort of just opened her mouth and shrugged with no better argument to give. Sometimes Nesta amazed me with the amount of pride she could wield that she needed someone else to say she  _ had _ to go on a trip she clearly wanted to go on, but had to pretend otherwise when she could have just said she wouldn’t go. I must have looked pretty smug when she looked back at me because her expression soured considerably.

I shrugged same as Elain. Right as a toilet flushed and Rhys strolled back into the room a minute later with a whistle. “So, anyone wanna go to Colorado for a week?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre takes her sisters with her on Rhys and Mor's family trip to Aspen where a super special surprise awaits them all!

I couldn’t really believe we were all going to Aspen together until I was sitting in the car and it was actually happening. Nesta wasn’t particularly impressed with Mor’s choice of music (early 2000’s Britney Spears), but Mor was pretty savy to Nesta in a hurry with her uncanny way of reading people and kept the volume down  _ most _ of the drive.

We left at the crack of dawn with well wishes from mom who seemed forlorn, but relieved we were going. The knot of guilt sitting in my gut lessened with every mile we drove away. By the time we were out of California, I was breathing again, allowing my mind to forget as much of home as possible.

The drive would take thirteen hours overall and Rhys wanted to power straight through it. He seemed pretty insistent we get to the resort by the end of the day, so when he got tired, Mor took over and I chipped in the last leg.

Nesta and Elain stayed in the back seat the entire time, Elain mostly content to make polite conversation to get to know Mor better. They kept the conversation going mostly. Nesta, however, was incredibly silent. She had her laptop in her bag despite mom’s urging that she ditch it to unplug for a week, but didn’t take it out. She really only spoke when necessary and I got a weird sense something was bugging her, but I didn’t dare ask her what it was. Not in this setting.

When I wasn’t driving or listening to Elain and Mor chatter on about whatever, I tried catching up on work emails. I hadn’t done a single thing for the gallery or the museum gala since the hospital, but when I logged in to my email account (the inbox of which was FULL to bursting), I noticed fairly quickly that someone had set up an out of office reply message for me saying due to a personal emergency, I would be back January 1.

Huh.

I looked around the car wondering if it was Rhys or mom who had notified work. I’d forgotten all about even calling my boss to let her know what had happened. As I pulled up a fresh email to send my apologies and express how grateful I was for the extra time off, I wondered vaguely if it had been Nesta who’d told her.

Glancing over my shoulder, Nesta was staring firmly out the window, her face drawn in a tight line. For once, it didn’t suit her.

I shut my phone off and tried to sleep.

* * *

Aspen was downright  _ cold _ .

Though probably not as cold as it would have been to a non-native Californian. Rhys and Mor didn’t seem to mind in the slightest as they hopped out of the car and started out pulling bags and ski gear. My sisters and I had never gone skiing before in our lives despite the cabin trips to Big Bear with our parents, but Rhys told us we could learn the basics easy enough and that rental gear was easy to come by at the resort.

And once I saw said resort, I understood why. It was  _ massive _ . Massive in the way I couldn’t begin to understand.

Supposedly, Rhys’s dad had blocked off a row of interconnecting suites for us in one of the upper wings. I couldn’t understand why we needed that much space, but I wasn’t going to argue for once. I’d have to hunt him down a very nice Christmas gift for the expense because looking up at the huge multi-storied building and all of the people milling about at work, I knew he had dropped some money on this place.

Rhys dropped my bags next to me at the curbside assistance station where bellhops began attending our car as I stared up the height of the hotel. “Number?” he asked.

“Six,” I offered. Not exactly exuberant, but not miserable and dwelling on things like I could have been under other circumstances.

“I can work with that,” he said before winking at me and grabbing my bags again to load onto a trolley a hotel attendant was bringing over.

“This is where we’re staying?” Rhys and I both found Nesta doing exactly as I had been not a moment before - staring up at the incredibly immense building before us. Rhys nodded casually like it was no big deal.

“You like?”

“I suppose,” she said and eyed him as though still annoyed, but I could tell. She liked what she saw. It was enough like our childhood lifestyle that I imagined it was something of a comfort to her to be around the luxury again. The far away look from the car was almost gone from her face.

Rather than ask what was wrong and say something that might set her off, I chose to keep the illusion of my sister’s contentment in tact and helped Rhys load the trolley with our bags. Elain and Nesta walked behind us toward the check-in so we could get keys to the room. Rhys’s dad was already waiting for us at the front desk.

“You made it!” It was the brightest I’d ever seen him. He hugged Rhys and then instantly pulled back to get down to business. “Where’s your si- cousin? Where’s Morrigan?” I sucked in a breath. If Rhys noticed his dad’s slip, he didn’t let on. How he could breeze by it when I suddenly felt like my chest might burst was beyond me.

“Parking the car,” Rhys replied. “You know her, she never lets the attendants do anything if she can help it.”

His dad nodded and then turned to me and didn’t let me have a choice when it came to an embrace. “I’m glad you came,” he said sincerely in my ear. The scent of his cologne and the tickle of his facial hair from when he’d last shaved threatened to strangle me. How very  _ dad-like _ he was in that moment had me hanging on to him a second longer than was probably normal.

_ Six, six, six… _ my ticked away, trying to hold on.

“Me too,” I said, clearing my throat as I stepped out of the hug. It wasn’t until the hug was over that my body realized it needed another one from him. Craved it. I pushed the thoughts away quickly. “Um, I don’t think you’ve met my sisters. This is Nesta and Elain.”

“Pleasure,” he said with a warm smile, extending his hand so they could shake it. “I’m glad you made it. Thank you for joining us.”

“Thank you for having us,” Elain said, taking over for our sister where her weaknesses in social situations failed. “We are really rather appreciative that you would even offer, given the circumstances.”

“Of course,” he said, nodding as though there was no alternative he’d have to this trip. “We’re glad you’re here. Morrigan!” And then he really lit up, his face so happy and calm as he scooped Mor up and held her for what felt like ages.

“Hey!” she said beaming at him brighter than the sun. I felt Rhys put his arm around my shoulder as a funny feeling tugged at my stomach.

“Are you-”

“Still a six,” I said.

“Good,” he replied and kissed my cheek. “Let’s get everything upstairs and unpacked, yeah? I have a surprise for tonight and I don’t want to be fussed about anything else lest my plans be ruined.”

“A surprise?!” Mor said with glee.

“Oh this will be good then,” I said, chuckling. “If Mor doesn’t know.”

The suite was quite simply a dream. I’d never stayed anywhere so nice in my life. Hell, even the elevator felt like a paradise with how pristine it was. Nesta no longer seemed like she had to pretend quite so hard to regret her decision coming.

They’d given us a large common room adorned in rich, warm colors that invited us all in. There was a large kitchen and plenty of furniture to lounge on, but my eyes went straight to the wall in front of us where a large floor to ceiling glass window loomed, overlooking the entire estate - all the snow and trees glistening for miles. You could see the ski slopes not far from the resort - easy walking distance, but Rhys assured us there were trams. People were flying down the mountainside constantly as we looked out.

And arranged in a circle around the common area were our rooms - four in total. Quick math had me questioning, but when I looked at Rhys he only smirked and shrugged. “You’ll be a seven by the end of the night, I guarantee it,” he whispered in my ear and then left off to find his dad in one of the rooms.

Nesta and Elain were allowed to share one room together while Mor and I took up another. Satin sheets in a rich burgundy color dressed the bed and they were so soft, I almost fell asleep just from running my fingers over the threads. “Fuck, I love it here,” Mor said throwing herself into the pillows. “I’m scheduling a massage first thing tomorrow morning.”

“You can… you can do that?”

She snorted. “Feyre, please. You did see the elevators here, right?”

“Wow.” I looked at the bed and the mountain of pillows and how casually Mor had laid herself out. She inclined her head as though to say  _ go on _ and so I plunged myself right in alongside her, the two of us laughing as the pillows exploded. “You know what,” I said as an expertly thrown pillow flew past my face, “I love it here too.”

* * *

I spent way longer that night in the shower than any human being should ever spend under the degree of heat I had the water up to. But I couldn’t help it. Everything about the resort oozed luxury and with how desperately I’d been in need of a break, I was ready to soak up every ounce of soap and sun and snow this palace could afford. The heat of the water hardly even mattered.

When I shut the shower off and the steamed curled deliciously around my shoulders, I let out a sigh. My toes hit the cool tile as I stepped out and begun draining the faint redness from my skin. A vast countertop of specialty lotions waited to polish me off.

I didn’t have confirmation yet, but I was pretty sure this place was Heaven.

My pajamas were the final touch before sliding out so Mor could swap in, and when I stepped back into our shared room, a lovely surprise was waiting for me sprawled out on the bed.

“Feyre, darling,” Rhys said, hands behind his head, giving me a gloriously stretched out view of his chest and abdomen below, visible from his apparent decision to forgo a top to sleep in. His hair was damp, curling just slightly at the ends as it dried, telling me he must have just finished his own shower. But I had a hard time keeping my eyes above his neckline for long… what with the way little residual beads of water still clung the hard planes of his stomach. Rhys gave me a filthy smirk, one thing his father wouldn’t be able to overhear through the open door.

“What do you want?” I said, choosing to spend a little time folding my clothes back up in the drawer than indulging him too soon in his schemes. He merely licked his lips. I pointed boldly at the door.

“Only the pleasure of your company,” Rhys said.

“Of course you do,” I replied, bothered, but Rhys’s eyes twinkled. I closed up the drawers and plopped on the bed, twisting until I was comfortably tucked into the pillows. Some of my hair fell across my face and Rhys tried to move it back. “Don’t!” He gave me a look. “It just… it smells so nice.”

Like peaches and sun, I decided. It made me feel the tiniest bit more like my friend with the blonde ambition showering next door.

“I also came to tell you…” Rhys leaned in and kissed my eyes just as I closed them, fully intent on ignoring him and getting some sleep. I was exhausted from spending all day driving in the car.

But his lips were deliciously soft, and I could smell his own shampoo and soap coming off his neck. My pulse quickened. It was enough to make me wonder how much we could get away with on this trip with his dad two rooms over.

“Mmm, what did you come to tell me?”

Rhys was kind enough to only sound mildly victorious when he purred at me, “That you have to stay awake, I’m afraid. Your surprise isn’t here yet.”

I winked an eye open.

“Rhys, it’s like…” I didn’t actually know what time it was, but it was well after ten when I’d gotten in the shower. “Late. It’s late. Your surprise can wait until tomorrow.”

“No, I’m afraid it can’t.” He jumped off the bed, jumbling the mattress enough that I was no longer quite so peaceful, and came to stand next to my side with his hands stretched out. I refused.

“I’m going to bed.”

“But it’s arriving soon. And trust me when I say, you won’t want to miss it. No one will.”

I rolled over with a groan. “What the hell kind of package arrives at midnight in the middle of all this snow?”

Rhys grabbed my hand and began pulling me up, his eyes alive with excitement and energy more than ever. “A Christmas one.”

* * *

“I’m going to bed,” Rhys’s father announced an hour later - precisely at midnight just as I’d forewarned Rhys.

“Quitter,” Rhys said.

“I’m old. You can tell me that when you’re my age and see if you still agree.”

“You’re still a quitter.”

“Semantics.”

“You’re the one who wants me to be a lawyer!” Rhys half-shouted the words right as the door to his and his father’s shared room shut. “Whatever,” he mumbled, clearly frustrated.

“Have you two talked about that yet?” I whispered.

But Rhys pulled my legs up and over his lap on the couch we shared rather than choose to answer me. And I decided that if I was going to ignore my problems this Christmas, maybe Rhys could afford to as well. The renewed contact between us sent a jolt through our bodies and we slowly stared up at each other with the same sense of urgency and heat that been flaring between us since we’d gotten here.

But right as his thumb started to inch a little higher on my calf, his phone  _ pinged! _ And I became the last thing on his mind as he began texting rapidly.

“Five minutes,” he said all aglow.

“Thank fucking goodness,” Nesta said with no measure of civility from the kitchen table where she was reading through one of her Russian lit books. I still didn’t quite understand how Rhys had gotten her and Elain to agree to stay up this late with us specifically rather than being allowed to retreat to the privacy of their own shared room.

For her own part, Elain was draped peaceably over a lounge chair without complaint, though the fact that she was grading exams instead of just relaxing had me tensing in worry that she and Nesta would spend the entirety of the vacation never truly feeling like they could just kick back and relax with us.

“It’s only five more minutes,” I told her with an edge. She glared at me. “You’d be awake at this hour anyway. What’s the difference if you read your book out here or in there?”

“The difference,” Nesta said, snapping her book shut and standing, “is that I don’t have to listen to such  _ distracting _ sounds all evening.” She looked rather pointedly at Mor who had carried on with her road trip music, bringing Britney into the spotlight of our hotel room. “Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“Hey!” Mor’s exclamation cut Nesta off from reaching the bedroom. She should have just kept right on going, but for some reason, she paused and received a casual arm around her shoulder from Mor. “Nesta, my babe - can I call you my babe?”

“Fuck no.”

“That’s great! You do that so well, babe. Now, if I may suggest…” Mor tried ever so delicately to take Nesta’s book, but my sister practically snarled at her. No one touched Nesta’s books. Not ever. “Okay, okay - you can put it down yourself. Or keep it! Whatever. I find I enjoy cocktails hands free, but whatever floats your boat, babe.”

Nesta shrugged her off and looked at me, ready to break my bones in two. But I merely snickered and let Mor carry on, which she did, grabbing Nesta’s hand and leading her back to the kitchen. “Sit, sit, sit my babe.”

“I’m going to _ kill, kill, kill _ if you keep calling me that-”

Mor rolled her eyes as she opened the liquor cabinet. “Well what on earth do you want me to call you? I can’t call you,  _ sweetheart _ now, can I?” Nesta’s face went scarlet before turning into a fire that could burn even Mor to the ground. But I caught Mor’s smirk as she set the glasses out and poured them each a drink. She set her phone on the counter between them. “You don’t touch this,” Mor said, and it wasn’t up for discussion. She raised her glass and waited out the full minute it took for Nesta to finally indulge her in raising her own. “You, my babe, need to learn how to relax. And Britney here holds the keys. Chin, chin!”

She clinked her glass and tapped her phone.  _ Hit Me Baby One More Time _ screamed out and Nesta begrudgingly took a sip. Mor smiled. “Now can I go to-”

Mor cut straight across my sister with the opening lines to the song. Nesta groaned - I think Rhys may have joined her in that. But Mor went right on along, messing up her hair, swaying her hips, and throwing her voice as far into Britney’s early auto-tuning days as she could. And she belted every bar right at Nesta who looked less and less pleased.

The more Nesta fought, the more ridiculous Mor became, carrying her phone and her glass with her around the room, jumping on furniture and doing her best vocalings. Part of me wondered if Rhys’s dad loved Mor enough to forgo sleep or if he’d be out in at any minute to tell her off for all the noise.

“Come on, Nesta!” Mor shouted between verses. “You’re  _ old _ . You can’t tell me you didn’t listen to Britney back in the day!” She shot my sister the cheekiest grin.

Nesta sighed into the palm of her hand and I thought we were done for. But then… peeking through the gaps of her fingers… Nesta was watching Mor. Quietly. Considerately. Like she was trying to figure out if this really was an attack on her pride or not.

I looked at Elain, who had stopped trying to grade exams, and she shrugged with a small smile. Mor jumped on the coffee table, knee high socks reaching up toward her incredibly short pajama bottoms, and hit the high notes of the final chorus. Elain lost it. And it was all so… weird and wild that I quickly followed, collapsing against Rhys’s chest as we laughed for what felt like forever.

Rhys leaned down and pushed my hair aside so he could whisper in my ear. “ _ Three… two… one… _ ”

At the confused look I gave him, he nodded toward the door. It was open. And someone handsome in a leather jacket with aviators pushed up over his head was standing there staring at Mor and looking impossibly, hopelessly in love with her.

The song ended and I guess Mor had known she’d only have one chance to get Nesta because nothing played after that. Instead, Mor flipped her hair back and looked at Nesta. “Well? What do you think?”

But it was Az who answered, not Nesta.

“I’d hit that one more time,” he said.

Mor screamed. And was all over Azriel before Rhys’s dad could open the bedroom door. “WHAT THE - oh. Oh.” He found Rhys and took a steadying breath. “Ten minutes,” he mouthed and didn’t wait for Rhys to agree.

It hardly mattered. Mor had jumped into Azriel’s arms and wrapped herself around him like a boa constrictor, her lips pecking him every which way. “How the,”  _ kiss _ “ever-living HELL,”  _ kiss _ “did you get here?!”

Az pulled away and looked into Mor’s eyes. The rest of us might as well have not been there, she was the only one in the room as far as he could see. “It’s a long story, love, but-”

“I don’t have time for long stories.” My head whipped to the side. Nesta was up from the chair, her glass of whatever long forgotten along with Mor’s music. And she was absolutely seething in my direction. No - not at me. At Rhys. “This is what you kept us up for? For  _ him _ ?”

“Whoa, Nesta-” Rhys said, scooting me up from his lap so he could address her properly. He sounded impatient.

“Don’t,” Nesta said and her voice cracked. “Don’t you dare. I came up here - left my mother alone at Christmas - to be with my sisters and help them deal with this shit storm we’re in. You didn’t need me here or Elain. And then you  _ force _ us-”

“Please, I promise you there’s an explanation.”

“I don’t want to hear it, asshole!”

Elain jumped up. “Nesta!” But I was pinned to my seat. This wasn’t right. Something was off. There was too much emotion behind the venom. It wasn’t dry, wasn’t her usual fury. This time, there was something more to it that Nesta had been carefully guarding from all of us, even Elain.

“I don’t want an explanation,” Nesta said. “I just want-”

“Well you’re gonna get one,” a deeper voice said from the door and all of our heads turned sharply, the room going dead still. It was a voice Nesta knew well. One that consumed her night and day over summer while she pretended otherwise.

Nesta looked to where Cassian stood at the door coming up alongside Az, who had set Mor down as the argument unfolded, and her eyes were already brimming. “Hi,” he said, and just as when Az saw Mor, Cassian looked at Nesta and no one else was in the room. Probably the entire mountainside for all he knew.

Nesta’s lips parted, her face softening, but she didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Cassian dropped the bag off his shoulder and took a slow, calculated step toward her. “Nesta,” he said, and didn’t stop until he was right in front of her. And then his voice dropped and the sky fell from above and Nesta went down right along with it. “ _ Nesta _ .”

“Are you - are you really…”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he said soft and low. “I didn’t just spend ten hours on three separate planes rereading your letter not to be here.” And then he kissed her. And it wasn’t like Mor’s enthusiastic shower over Az that wanted to scream the love in her heart to the entire world. It was soothing and personal and so intimate that I felt like I was intruding.

Elain scooted herself away from the couch treading carefully so as not to touch either one of them and I quickly followed with Rhys, but not fast enough to miss the tears on Nesta’s cheek that Cassian smoothed away with his thumb. When the kiss broke and they started whispering, none of us could make it out and we didn’t try.

“Explain,” Mor said in a whisper even once we’d gotten out in the hallway and shut the door.

“Cassian finished basic training and got leave right after you got on your plane to come down,” Az said. “And when Rhys said Feyre and her sisters were all coming with you to Colorado, he asked his dad if we all could.”

“But what about his family?” I asked. “They haven’t seen him in months either.”

Az shrugged. “Some things are more important. And besides, they’re staying one floor down from us. Who do you think picked us up from the airport?”

“But what about work?” Mor tensed. “What about the internship?! I thought they scheduled you to work all week?”

Az turned his head on its side and stared at her incredulously. “You thought I would let  _ work _ stop me from spending Christmas with you?”

Mor bit back an embarrassed smile and kissed his cheek. “Azriel,” she cooed, undoubtedly tickled he’d made the effort to get down here to be with her for Christmas. Az flushed brilliantly and leaned down to kiss her properly.

My body felt so warm watching them. Everything was suddenly all right in the world. My friends were all so happy.

Apparently, Cassian flew all the way to Seattle from the east coast and then caught a connecting flight with Az to one of the smaller airports in Colorado that had cleared the storm path, and were picked up from the airport by his family who’d driven straight there from California and straight to the hotel after. They were already downstairs in their rooms tucking in and I didn’t blame them.

“What about humanitarian law?” I asked Rhys.

His head jolted, pulled out of the reverie of watching his cousin and best friend reunite. “What?”

“You’re really good at this helping people thing.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

I gave him a sour look. “Don’t be daft. Of course you did. You did all of this.” I gestured around us. He shook his head and for once there wasn’t a trace of the Rhys who used flattery as fuel to his soul.

“No, my father’s credit card did.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

He scowled, but kissed my forehead anyway. “We can talk about that later. Come on, dad only gave us twenty minutes and I don’t want to push it any more than we already have.”

“Actually, he only gave you ten-”

Rhys silenced me with a kiss and dragged me inside where Nesta and Cassian were curled up on the couch just sitting in silence, perfectly content to be reunited. When my head hit the pillow, I didn’t even have time to consider that my grief hadn’t plagued me once that evening before I fell asleep.

And so our week of Christmas heaven began.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre's first day at the ski resort is full of ups and downs from learning the fun of snowboarding to facing the emotional challenges she's desperate to escape.

Turns out, skiing is hard as hell to learn.

Rhys and I went out early at my request - or at least, as “early” as we could given the late night we all had. But we still managed to be the first ones up that I could tell. I wouldn’t have been surprised, though, to have looked in Nesta and Elain’s room and found the former one already missing for the day.

Despite the trips my family would sometimes take to see snow in the winter, skiing was never something we attempted. My mom just wasn’t sporty and my dad had broken one bone too many trying in his teens, so that was simply that. I figured maybe if Rhys took me out early enough, I wouldn’t look like a total fool by the time everyone else was around to it, but after my third trip on the smaller slope for beginners like me, that didn’t look likely.

“Need a hand?”

I scowled up at Rhys and pushed myself out of the snow where I’d fallen. “Don’t start.”

Rhys was polite enough to bite back his smirk. “It takes time. You’ll get the hang of it.” But standing didn’t feel much better than sitting on my ass in the snow. As soon as I was up, my knees were already wobbly on the blades. Muscles in my thighs I never even knew existed ached with a horrible soreness.

“I can barely even walk much less ski! Maybe this isn’t for me.”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. We can go a little longer and if we get a sign from the gods above that you’re not going to win gold at the next Olympics, you can stay away from the slopes the rest of the week.”

“Rhys, I hit a tree. How much more of a sign can I possibly need than that?”

He chuckled, and we started walking back to the start point to try again. “If you don’t enjoy hitting trees, maybe you should aim elsewhere.”

“It jumped out at me! I swear!”

“I don’t know about that, Feyre.” I jumped and felt myself turn red seeing Mor and Az approach us. Az surveyed the tree in question nearby - and the impression my ass had left just below it in the snow. “Judging from its size, I think that tree’s been there a while.”

“Ugh, you saw that?!”

Mor giggled.

“It’s okay, Feyre,” she exclaimed. “Rhys here isn’t much better. He never could beat me down the hill to save his life.”

“You wanna bet?” Rhys stepped forward and seemed to remember at the loss of contact with me that I was nowhere near following him to the advanced courses.

“It’s fine,” Az said. “You two go kill each other on Mount Everest and I’ll stick with Feyre.” He turned to me and with no pressure or judgment whatsoever, offered, “I can teach you - if you want.”

“Oh!” Az and I hadn’t spent a ton of time together alone without someone else in our circle being nearby. But Rhys was already itching to get Mor to put her skis on and go. I looked at the smaller slope I’d failed to get down and decided I didn’t want to be defeated. This week would be a good one. “Okay,” I said. “Sure. Why not?”

Az nodded and sent the others off toward the lifts. I had a feeling I wouldn’t see them for a while. “Okay, well for starters, we need to get you the right equipment.” I looked down at my skis confused.

“But the lady at the rental store measured and fitted me for these. You don’t think they’re the right size?”

Az started moving back toward the rental check-in and shook his head. I followed. “I don’t think they’re the right size at all.” It was then as I walked behind him trying impossibly to keep up with my skis on that I realized he didn’t have any of his own. Instead, one long solid board was strapped to his back.

“ _ Oh _ ,” I said. “Oh I like you.”

“Mor doesn’t date me for nothing,” he said, smug for once.

I laughed and stepped up to the rental stand to trade my skis in for a snowboard.

* * *

We played on the mountainside all day. Snowboarding came along a lot easier than the skis ever did, though it still required quite a bit of practice to get right. But by the end of the day, Az had me flying down the beginner slope without hitting any trees, a fact I shoved under Rhys’s nose after Mor kicked his ass one slope over several times.

As for Aspen itself, the snow was beautiful and that barely began to describe it. I wasn’t sure there was a word to do it justice. Taking the lifts up high above the trees peppering all that pure, glistening white was a sight I’d never seen before, nothing like the snow tops in California I’d visited. They didn’t hold a torch to this.

And racing past it all down the slopes was an addictive rush I could already feel myself wanting to stay and experience forever. Racing down the slopes, even at my sluggish starter pace, everything else blurring in my head disappeared. The wind whipped the colors together before my eyes - whites and greys, greens and browns, earth and sky and ice all mixed together for the perfect blend of wonder. It made me want to go find a shop and buy enough supplies to drag inside our hotel room so I could paint the entire city. God himself probably could have given me an eternity to do it and I would never be able to finish.

Painting.

I hadn’t done it in weeks. But I was finally thinking about it again. And trying very hard  _ not _ to think about anything else while I snowboarded.

My newfound joy was interrupted only in brief pockets of time by everything else. When I would reach the end of a run and not know who was with me until Az or someone caught up. When I would make a mistake and Az would jump in to give me pointers. When I would sit on the lift and see the breathtaking view of the sun over the mountains, and know my dad would never be able to come back with me so I could share it with him. All the things that inspired me were eaten away each time I thought of him.

So each time it happened, I held my breath and counted until something else arrived to make it all go away.

I wanted to tell Rhys. But if I told Rhys or Mor, they’d probably tell me it’s okay to feel happiness again, even so soon after his death. That he’d want me to move on in life at any point and enjoy it, whether it was today or ten years from now.

The problem was my heart just didn’t really have any space for that kind of guilt yet. It was more so that it just felt empty knowing there was no longer even a chance of being with him again. That our journey had ended. I’d run out of time.

I hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.

But then Az would find me to congratulate me on my improvement or Mor would send a fistfull of snow flying at Rhys that invited us all into a war (one we all lost once Cassian arrived well after lunchtime), and I’d forget again. As long as they were with me, I could be okay.

And I hated myself a little for already wondering how bad it would be when they left again to go back to school.

Rhys’s dad reserved a private room for us that night in the restaurant so no one would feel like they had to split their time up visiting with anyone. Cassian’s family alone took up more than half the table with both his parents and all of his siblings attending. I crammed in between Mor and Rhys toward the end, with Elain sitting on Mor’s other side, a book in front of her. Nesta sat next to Cassian trying to avoid his sibling’s wild antics while earning the respect of his parents. Elain didn’t seem too troubled about it. Az bridged the gap between us all.

“So,” Mor said between bites of the food she inhaling; with how hard I’d worked on the hill today, I wasn’t actually that far behind. “How do you feel now that you’ve gotten your first day under your belt?”

I swallowed a huge piece of chicken and washed it down before I could answer. “Good, I think. Better when you and Az showed up. He’s a keeper that one.”

“He is,” Mor said, a faint blush staining her already rosy cheeks. “Wouldn’t have taken so long to get over to you two this morning if he wasn’t.”

I set my fork down and shot her a look. “What does that mean?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively before hiding behind her drink. (She’d tried for wine, but Rhys’s dad said underage drinking in the hotel mini bar was enough.) “Seriously?!” Mor snorted into her glass. “How did you manage that?”

“Oh Feyre,  _ please _ . It’s not that hard. Or did you not properly count the number of rooms we have upstairs?”

Now I was the one blushing. I gave a quick glance at Rhys on my right, but he was completely absorbed in conversation with Az and Cass. Now that the three of them were reunited, I knew he’d be pre-occupied for a while.

Lowering my voice, I leaned in toward Mor and whispered, “If you have any secrets to share, I welcome them. Rhys and I haven’t been together lately.” Mor’s eyebrows shot up to the roof in concern.

“At all? Nothing?  _ Nada _ ? Oh my gosh is everything okay? You two aren’t fighting are you? What happened before we got up this-”

“No, nothing like that, geez.” I took a sip of my own drink and let the coolness of the ice settle me. “There were some heated moments when he first got back, but then after that… like, between picking you up, all the stuff with my mom, and now the trip, we just haven’t really had time to be… together, like that. And I’m not exactly as daring as you are to bang with a single wall separating me and his father.”

“For starters - his father got up at the butt crack of dawn to go eat breakfast in the diner downstairs, like I knew he would. That man never sleeps in past sunrise. That’s tip number one. And now that you explain, I get it.” She blew a sympathetic shot of air past her lips that tickled the hair hanging loosely in front of her face. “Alright, it’s a deal.”

“What deal?”

“Az is gonna teach you to ride and I’m gonna teach you bang your boyfriend -  _ secretly _ . Don’t make me regret this. He is my cousin after all and unlike the shit I tell you about me and Az, I do  _ not _ want the salacious details my teachings will bring forth to your union.”

I snorted and had to stifle a giggle before the entire table looked over to ask what we were talking about. It was made worse when I noticed Az studying us curiously from across the table. The others hadn’t noticed.

“Wonderful,” I admitted, thinking it really would be. I tried not to compare Rhys with Tamlin too much since it wasn’t useful or healthy, but with Tamlin, whenever there was an issue in my life, I used him physically first and never got around to the taking care of the emotional component. It was probably one of the reasons I’d gotten so messed up the past few years.

But with Rhys, he wouldn’t let me set aside my thoughts and feelings just have crazy, messed up sex and forget. I had to face the truth with him constantly. It definitely helped our relationship, but at the same time…

My mind wandered back to seeing him shirtless on my bed upstairs, feeling the way his breath tickled my skin when he leaned in to tell me surprises were in store. And later when his hand had begun to trail suggestively up my thigh.

And that wasn’t to mention when he’d caught me breathless at the bottom of the slope at the end of the day to kiss me senseless behind one of the trees I hadn’t hit.

My thighs clenched together with a will of their own beneath the table.

Yep. I was in need of an education -  _ fast _ .

“When do we start?” I asked. Mor’s smile was wicked.

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Why not just tomorrow?”

“Feyre, it’s Christmas,” she said.

“Christmas?”

Mor cocked her head to one side and let out a breezy laugh. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”

Her attention went back to her plate and I tried to laugh it off right along with her. But under the table, my hand was searching for Rhys - any part of him. A hand, a knee, an elbow. Just something to ground me in the world I was quickly falling away from.

Rhys noticed the touch when I grazed his knee and looked over. I just stared down in the small space between us where he laid a hand and slowly counted out fingers. I squeezed his knee when he got to five.

He nodded and kissed my cheek, a promise to figure it out later. But it felt too late. Somewhere inside me, a devastation of sorts was happening.

Tomorrow was Christmas. My first without my dad. And I wasn’t anywhere near ready for it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre and Rhys get all of their feelings out in the open come Christmas day. And Mor's intervention leads to some steamy moments alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited update! I'm going to try and make this my NaNo project, so hopefully it won't be too much longer to get the end of the story finally.
> 
> [Please don't hate me for not making this super duper explicit, I promise more will come eventually!]

Rhys and I didn’t find a chance to talk after dinner. I had planned on waking up early and catching him in his room after his dad left for breakfast, like Mor had said. But I ended up not having to.

Mor’s alarm went off five minutes before mine. The sun wasn’t even up. I pretended I was still asleep as she got dressed in the bathroom and left. I thought she was meeting Az again, but a moment later I could hear Rhys’s dad outside our door meet her and ask if she was okay, and then they were gone.

Huh.

I rolled over and stared at the empty spot in the bed she’d taken up and wondered if I had missed something. Yet all I could really concentrate on was the heaviness slowly settling over my head in that tight space right behind the eyes.

A light knock at the door interrupted reality trying to shake its way back into my thoughts, and Rhys entered the room before I could mumble anything to let him in.

“Good morning,” Rhys said softly, closing the door behind him. I started to sit up and he urged me to stay until he’d climbed in beneath the sheets and pulled me against him. He had a simple pair of shorts and a cotton tee on to sleep in that easily let me feel how warm his body was pressed against mine. My toes curled just breathing in the familiar scent against his chest. For half a breath, my mind quieted.

“Good morning,” I said, much groggier than he sounded. A low rumble in his chest mocked me.

“Not awake yet?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Shame,” he said playing with the hemline of my shirt. “My dad just left for breakfast.”

“I heard.” A yawn made me pause. “It seems I’m the only one not in on the secrets of your father’s schedule. Mor’s going to holler at me later that we aren’t taking advantage of the opportunity.”

“Morrigan can mind her own damn business for a change.” The comment lacked its usual playful bite. I moved to look up at him and couldn’t resist running my fingers through the muss of his hair sleep had left behind. It was too dark to see properly, but the outline of his face was kind and welcoming for the snowy morning we were having.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice dropping instinctively.

Rhys sighed. “I’m not sure. I think her parents might have called last night before bed. She didn’t say anything?”

“No, I fell asleep before she got in the room. I was… tired.”

“Five tired? Or tired-tired?”

“Both?”

A groan. And a twist to his lips I hated seeing.

“It’s okay,” I insisted. “I’ll figure it out, but maybe we could… do you think we could go somewhere today? Just for a little while, I don’t want your dad to feel we’re ditching on Christmas. But I think I need a break.”

The words were hardly out of my mouth before I started to regret them. One day we’d been at the lodge. And already I wanted to call it quits.

Rhys found my hand and brought it to his lips to press a promise against the back of it. “Of course. They’re lighting the tree in the plaza tonight in special Christmas colors. We could take a walk before hand and meet everyone after?”

“That’s dumb. The tree has been lit for a month. What kind of new colors are they going to invent?”

Rhys interlaced our fingers and chuckled. “So festive, you are, Feyre darling.”

I curled back into his chest, my eyes growing heavy again. “It’s hard being festive when you hate this time of year.” I felt Rhys go still against me, as if he were holding his breath unsure what to say.

“Do you really?”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “I don’t know anymore. I’m just tired of… things.”

And really, I was. Anything and everything was starting to feel simply exhausting and I had no idea how to find my way back. The breadcrumbs seemed to disappear one by one every day.

Rhys didn’t say anything after that. Simply held me and stroked the hand wrapped around me up and down my back under the shirt until I fell back asleep. Sleep came quickly, and though my brain welcomed it, it was still not enough. And that was perhaps what scared me most of all.

* * *

As it happened, we weren’t the only ones with the idea of taking a Christmas breather before the tree lighting ceremony.

Rhys’s dad came back with Mor, who looked as bright and beautiful as she normally did, by the time I was properly awake. We spent the morning inside playing games, ordering room service, and just lounging about, all of us in our pajamas.

Cassian went down with his own family at first, but spent the afternoon after lunch upstairs with Nesta who finally seemed to be relaxing. Even Elain had stopped grading exams and was content to just read. Sometimes I got the sense she was watching me, but every time I looked up, her nose was in a book.

“I can’t believe how cold it is here,” Rhys said with a slight shiver as we stepped out into the snow and took our first steps together. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

I pinched him where I could reach through all the layers he had on. “Wimp. What happened to the Rhys who skis in sub-freezing temperatures with winds at a hundred miles per hour going against him?”

Rhys stole my arm and interlocked it with his, our hands coming together so I couldn’t attack him further. “First of all, your facts need checking. Secondly, you’re not Morrigan and my pride isn’t on the line.”

“If you say so,” I said, trying my best to not to smile. But it was challenging not to give in.

Something about being outdoors in the fresh air with him was peaceful. The sun was out warming our faces even as the cold air ate at the rest of us. But it didn’t matter how cold it got, seeing the trees and mountains spread out was just as lovely as the first time I saw it.

“I don’t think I could ever get used to this,” I said.

“Wanna move to the mountains with me, Feyre darling?” I snorted.

“Hell no, I could never leave southern California. All that heat…” I continued staring at the trees as we entered a pathway that cut through them and the scent of pine hit me full tilt. Rhys seemed to sense I was having a moment and waited. “It is lovely here, though. I like it more than I thought I would.”

“Lots of things we hate seem lovelier once we give them a chance.”

“Like law school?”

A grimace was my only answer. Now Rhys was the one studying the trees carefully.

We walked on until we got to an opening that was cleared enough of the trees to see the full view of the valley, but safe enough that we could sit and enjoy it. The resort had even installed a few benches along the way for guests like ourselves to take a break and enjoy the sights.

Rhys and I sat on one of the benches, our hands still held fast.

“You won’t talk to him, will you?” I ventured asking after the silence was too much.

“No.”

“Rhys, you’re his son. He loves you. In the end, he’ll only want what makes you happy.”

He leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees, and released my hand to rub his eyes. “My dad has very different ideas about that. He’ll do what makes him happy and say it’s the same thing.”

Somehow, I found that hard to believe of the man I’d slowly come to know over the last year and a half. Rhys’s dad was firm, there was no denying. But I also clearly saw how much he adored Rhys, possibly in ways that Rhys himself never noticed.

“Shouldn’t you at least try? You hate the idea of law school. I can tell.” Rhys sighed, but looked at me, open to hope for at least a brief window. “But you love literature. And history. And helping people.” I scooted a tad closer to him on the bench and quirked my lips. “Romance.” He breathed a slight laughed and shook his head refusing to meet me halfway. “All I’m saying is that law doesn’t have to be so technical. Maybe you two could compromise. Law school… with a twist.”

“Last time I checked, lawyers working to protect the rights of the underprivileged don’t work in the legal department at their father’s companies defending his business practices.”

“No, but they do live happily ever after making the world a better place, which last time  _ I _ checked,” he smirked, “was what you really wanted anyway. And you’re good at it.”

“Is that so, huh?”

For once, I had the enormous pleasure of flicking  _ his _ nose. “That’s the first time you’ve ever not willingly taken an opportunity to boost your own ego. I’m calling the president and adding it to the national record books.”

“You,” and he caught my legs to sweep them over his lap the way he always prefered me, “are much more like your dear best friend than you might care to admit.”

I smiled gloriously, my heart warming at the thought. Maybe there was something of Morrigan in me, something I could find and harness to my advantage. The idea was instantly soothing on my nerves.

“She does tend to rub off on people,” I said.

“I’m pretty sure if Az hadn’t walked in, Nesta would have belted the next song with her.”

“Ha!” My outburst echoed in the snow around us. “Not likely, but she did last an entire song, which is way more than I thought she would.”

“You underestimate her, I think.”

“You underestimate yourself.”

Rhys’s smile faltered and suddenly we were right back where we started. “If I’m going to talk to him about changing my career path - and that’s a big  _ if _ \- I’m going all out. I’m delaying declaring a major until I’ve got two years under my belt and I’m moving back to California so I can transfer schools.”

The admission startled me so much that I blinked up at him a bit wildly, a mixture of something like dread and anticipation filling my stomach. “What? Why on earth would you want to do that?” His face fell further and I was pretty sure hurt was flashing in his eyes, but it was too late. I couldn’t take back what I’d said - what had clearly sounded as though I didn’t want him here.

“To… to be with you,” he said softly. His voice didn’t echo around us as mine had only moments ago. “But if you don’t want me to-”

“No - Rhys, I didn’t mean it like that. Shit.” He eyes fell on our hands interlaced over my knees. I didn’t remember at what point that had happened, but I squeezed them now and held them tight between us. “I just meant… I thought you loved New York.”

“I do,” he said and I could tell he meant it. “But you’re better when I’m here. When Mor’s here. When you have us with you. I don’t want you to feel like every day has to be a five if me or her staying here means you could get to a ten.” He looked up at me and his eyes glistened, and it was the first time I realized that he was worried about me. He’d never let it show before. “Feyre, I want you to feel what I feel. The way you make me feel when we’re together, like this.”

I swallowed and found I couldn’t look away. Not for one second as those violet eyes held mine on the edge of the mountain side. It felt like the edge of our lives.

I hated that he would give up so much for me. The idea drove me wild with rage and guilt. We’d been dancing around the issue for weeks now and so far I’d been rather successful at putting him off it. But now… now I couldn’t get one question out of my head that might just change everything.

I swallowed what I could, my mouth feeling suddenly dry. “And how do you feel when we’re together, like this?” I asked softly.

He ran a finger down my cheek and leaned in to brush his nose against mine. When he spoke, I could feel the chill of his breath in the air hanging between us. “Like I can do anything.”

And then he kissed me. And stars from an angel above fell before my eyes.

Rhys’s mouth was hot against me, his lips crushing every which way until my own parted and our tongues met. As soon as we touched, our hands went everywhere in a frenzy trying to explore, to know, to be. There was no stopping the chaos. It simply breathed itself into existence between us.

I managed to peel the layers at his waist back first, enough to get my fingers on his stomach. Rhys detached from my mouth to suck at my neck, right below the ear where I was especially sensitive, and it drew a moan from me that had me scratching around his waist. Rhys’s appreciation was quickly made known as he nipped at my ear.

More, more, more of him. That’s all I wanted. Damn if it didn’t feel so right. If we hadn’t been outside in the freezing cold where anyone might walk upon us, I would have shoved him down on the bench and taken all the layers away until we were nothing but skin and sweat and two souls merging in the woods.

Hell, even with the chance of being found I was half-ready to do it, Morrigan’s not so subtle encouragements lingering in my ears.

Being with him made me feel alive. Kissing him like that in the middle of all that freedom around us… in the midst of all our honesty… I understood how right he was. Together,  _ we could do anything we wanted _ .

Being with Rhys meant laying my soul bare before him and his unto mine own. It was being a one and a ten at the same time because he saw all the bad in me and made it whole again. While at the same time, I asked him for his own best.

Which was why I couldn’t let him move back to California for me. Not yet.

_ “Feyre, _ ” Rhys whispered against my cheek. Promise after promise after promise fell there from his lips. “Feyre - my love. What is it? What do you feel?”

I blinked open my eyes and found him watching me, tears once more threatening to spill across his lovely face.

Love. Rhysand loved me. With every ounce within him that was humanly possible to give.

“I feel too much,” I said, and to my horror, I could hear my voice cracking. “And nothing at the same time.”

He held my face steady in one hand and took deep, audible breaths until I could match him. I withdrew my hold around his waist and curled up in his lap, letting the moment breathe on its own. “Let me help you,” Rhys said after the silence was over. “How do I help you?”

“Stay in New York.” And I could see by the concern creasing his face that he wasn’t sure. “I could never forgive myself if you gave up an opportunity, something that made you truly happy. It would be worse to have you here helping me than to suffer alone without you. You have to go back and stay there. Promise me.”

Our foreheads touched and Rhys closed his eyes. It wasn’t the answer he’d wanted. But for me...

“Okay,” he said. “But what do we do in the meantime? You have to get better somehow.” Now I closed my eyes. “I’m not going to leave you here with no ropes to hold on to, Feyre.”

“I don’t know. I still just… don’t know.”

Dizzy. I felt dizzy, and squeezed my eyelids shut even tighter than they already were as if I could force the madness inside of me to expel itself out.

Rhys lowered into the hollow of my neck, breathing gently. “I’ll go back to New York, but all you have to do is call and I’ll be on the next plane home for however long you’ll let me stay. Whether it’s one night or all the nights, I promise you forever, Feyre.”

I smiled and felt my body attempt to relax. Forever sounded… so nice. When I opened my eyes after several long minutes, I looked to see a lone tear escape him, the one he couldn’t keep held at bay. “I’d like forever,” I said and wiped the tear away. I’d keep it him for him. “Forever and a dream.”

“It’s a deal.”

My skin tingled as though it were marked with our promise. We stayed up there on that bench watching the view for a long while after until the sun was nearly gone over the horizon in a blaze of pinks and oranges, and the stars became our lanterns guiding us back home. When we made it to the plaza, where the Christmas tree that had to be at least forty feet tall was waiting to be lit, the resort was crowded with people.

We didn’t see Rhys’s dad. Or Mor. Or either of my sisters. Or anyone else. Instead, we heard the hotel thank us all for choosing to spend Christmas with them over the loudspeaker and then the hotel lights dimmed just as the tree lit up. Every color imaginable filled the space as music played and danced over the tree, the crowd, and even the exterior of the resort. It was magnificent.

I turned to find Rhys already watching me, a soft smile playing on his features under the glow of the lights. “Happy birthday, Feyre,” he said as everyone around us cheered. But I heard him and him alone.

“Merry Christmas, Rhysand,” I replied and laughed before leaning up to kiss him. He still tasted sweet and warm in all the ways I needed him to be and it wasn’t long until that heat from earlier on the mountain crept back into our breath. Rhys broke the kiss looking at me, a question in his eyes. I surveyed the crowd again quickly and came up empty of our friends.

I bit my lip. “Um, so Mor might have put some condoms in my pocket before we left,” I whispered. Rhys’s eyes sparked wickedly.

“Did she now?” I looked away, blushing furiously. “My wicked cousin, always the planner. Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand and leading me with increasing speed through the crowds.

We raced along, losing our breath and our cares, weaving in and out until we were running through the hotel lobby and fighting over ourselves to hit the right keys on the elevator lest we stop at every floor. The carriage was empty and no sooner had the doors closed to take us up, up, up did Rhys have me pinned against the wall, his hips grinding into mine to let me know exactly what I could expect when we got upstairs.

My pulse raced. My breathing quickened. And my heart was a wild, living beating thing free of its cage as we made it back to our rooms.

Alive - that’s what I was with him. Alive with no other desire to keep me locked away.

We slowed only to cautiously check that our hotel room really was vacant, that our family was downstairs with the rest of the hotel looking at that stupid tree I suddenly couldn’t care less about. It took two seconds to clear the room before Rhys dropped his arms with a smug look on his face and twisted the handle on his room open. He leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed.

“Let’s see those pockets, eh?”

I laughed and darted past him until we were both dragged on the bed and I’d pulled him on top of me. A loud crinkling sound stopped us both.

“What the hell is on your bed?” I asked digging underneath me as Rhys tore through my jacket looking for those little square packets.

“I don’t know,” he said without much concern. “I made the bed this morning without leaving anything out of place.”

“Of course you did,” I said, laughing both at his cleanliness even on vacation and the fact that he was so lost in the rhythm of trying to undo me. Finally, I got the object free from beneath me. “It’s a paper from - oh my gosh, you have got to kidding me.”

“Is now really the time to care about whatever piece of paper I left on the bed? Found it!” Rhys held up a string of condoms - far more than anyone would need in one night - and I fell back on the pillows and laughed until I was breathless.

“Here,” I said shoving the paper at him. “You need to read this. Trust me.”

Rhys unfolded the paper.

_ Dinner is at 8:30pm. Your dad got distracted flirting with the receptionist I had pass his way to check on him. Just make sure your ass is at the diner on time. Have fun fucking! _

Rhys sighed, the sound of the longsuffering. I wondered briefly how Az did it every single day. “She is… something else,” Rhys said, shaking his head. And to my surprise, he folded the paper up neatly and set it on his nightstand.

“And apparently she thinks we’re going to fuck no less than…” I held up the stack of condoms and mimicked counting. “At least a dozen times in thirty or so minutes.”

“Well I’m game if you are, Feyre darling.” Rhys leaned back over me, his shirt flying off in the process. He pushed my own sweater up and it was glorious taking it off, to be skin to skin with him again. I wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted my hips against his. He looked down between us to where we met and swore. It had been so long.

“It’s a deal,” I said and proceeded to make use of all thirty minutes we were given before dinner.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything falls apart on the way home from the trip, leading to a serious confrontation of sorts between Feyre and Nesta that threatens to break them.

We left two days before New Year’s. I took the longest out of everyone to pack to the point that Mor stayed with me when Rhys’s dad got antsy and helped me throw my suitcase together. I stared at the suite, wishing more than anything I could stay. Despite that the week was full of ups and downs, after Rhys and I had cleared the air between us there were way more ups than downs.

And more ups than I knew would wait for me at home.

Home.

Dad would never be there again. The feeling sunk into my chest as I snapped the buckles of my suitcase up tight along with my stiff, growing fear.

I threw myself into work on the drive home to keep myself busy, sitting in the front seat while Rhys took the wheel. I figured getting an early jump on my technical start date was the least I could do for my boss after how understanding she’d been about my family situation. Plus, it made for a wonderful distraction... even if said distraction took me a solid two hours to catch up on. Nesta and Elain both fell asleep in the back seat listening to me make phone calls. When I clicked off the phone for the last time nearly two hours later, the car was radio silent.

“Finally,” Rhys said, taking one hand off the wheel and holding my hand across the center console. “I’ve been waiting to do that since I put the keys in the ignition.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, letting the air fall out of me in a rush. It was like being winded without running. My body felt completely on edge, tense in ways I’d never experienced. “That took way longer than it should have, but I missed a lot just in the last two weeks alone.” Two weeks. I was so screwed when I got back to work. “The catering menu alone has become a royal pain in my ass.”

Rhys chuckled softly and stroked my hand. Ahead of us was nothing but snow-topped mountains and roads. I was going to miss Colorado - more than I wanted to admit. “You do a good job of it all despite missing so much. You’re really good at this, you know.”

“What - event planning?” I snorted. “It’s really more Mor’s thing.”

“I’m serious. I heard you on the phone telling your cafe chef where to stick his wire whisk if you didn’t get your seasonal soups for the event.”

“Sushi is just not a viable vegetarian option!” Rhys nodded, and shot me a glance. “Well it’s not,” and I couldn’t help but smile a little. “Some people don’t eat fish.” He squeezed my hand.

“I’m just saying… give yourself some credit. You’re good at this when you want to be.” His words struck me. I bit my lip considering. “What is it?”

“It’s just, what if it’s not that I’m good at it? The only reason I powered through all of that is because it kept my mind busy and off other things. I  _ had _ to be good because… because the alternative is worse.”

Rhys frowned and gripped the steering wheel a little more tightly as he glanced quickly out his window. “Were there other things you needed distracting from?” His voice was tight.

I sighed. “Yes? Maybe? I don’t know anymore. Sometimes it feels like there isn’t anything wrong at all, so that makes everything wrong.” Which made… absolutely no sense.

“What number?” I hesitated and Rhys grew a little impatient. There was a snap of worry in his voice when he pressed me again. “Feyre, what number?” He held my hand tight. I took a deep breath.

“Five.”

“You’ve been at a five all week.”

“That’s the problem.” My head fell back hard on the headrest. “I had a wonderful week. An  _ amazing _ week. One of the best I’ve maybe ever had. And I never got you your seven. There were some sixes, but never anything more.”

“Hold up a second, it’s not about  _ my _ seven. You don’t owe me happiness, Feyre.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

I dropped his grip on me as my hands flew into the air frustrated. “It’s just, I had everything this week. Family, friends, a lot of happy, but it still feels like something is wrong. Like everything is just slipping away somehow and I don’t know how to control it.”

I knew I was pleading. I know I was asking him for an answer that even I knew he couldn’t give me. Despite the constant reassurances, I was starting to feel like I would never hear the right combination of words from anyone to make me feel okay again.

Rhys took it all in and I worried he was putting the blame on himself. There was nothing he could have done differently. I knew it in the pit of my heart. Rhys wasn’t the problem. Nothing about this week had been. It was just me.

A horrible sadness settled over me.

Rhys let out a breath and kissed the back of my hand, and just as he parted his lips to say something I desperately wanted to hear, he was cut off.

“What do you mean you aren’t a seven?”

Every bone and muscle in my body froze. My eyes went wide and I stared horror struck at Rhys who sucked in a breath.

Nesta.

I’d forgotten Nesta was with us. She’d been asleep with Elain over an hour ago and I was so comfortable talking to Rhys about the things going on with me, I just…

I forgot…

I....

_ I can’t breathe. _

Instant panic swept over me.

My breath sped up as I turned to look at my sister. I could feel sweat gathering on my palms.

Elain was still asleep from what I could sense. But Nesta stared at me, her face blank and pale. I wished more than anything Cassian had been there. Or Mor. Or Az or anyone who might distract her. But we didn’t have enough space in the car, so Mor and Az got a rental with Rhys’s dad. And Cassian was already en route to the airport, his leave over. He was due back on base tomorrow for his first location assignment. He’d hoped to get placed somewhere in SoCal to be close to us.

And Nesta… Nesta…

“Ness… I-”

“What did you mean by that?”

“N-nothing, I just-”

I couldn’t finish. Where the hell had my voice gone? Her’s had been empty and I didn’t understand what that meant. Nesta was always so full of  _ something _ .

“Do you want me to tell her?” Rhys asked me, quiet as though trying for some sense of privacy. It failed.

“She can tell me herself, asshole.”

“Nesta, please!”

A stinging hit the edges of my eyes. The week had been so perfect.

So perfect.

So perfect.

Why was this happening now? Did I even understand what was happening? My head spun furiously trying to erase the last ten minutes, go back in time, find the bench or the snow or the diner or the trees.

“What’s going on?” Elain stretched and struggled to right herself in her seat. “What are we shouting about?”

_ No, no, no, no yellling. No. _

I turned back forward and my head swam. I grabbed a fistful of Rhys’s jacket and put a hand on my head. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” He pulled over on the spot. I bolted out of the car and ran.

“Feyre!” he yelled. I heard the engine die and the car door slam as he chased after me. I stumbled over after a few feet and felt a hot liquid gush onto my fingers. A few moments later, my body registered the white, bitter snow soaking through my jeans.

And then Rhys was there, pulling my hair back out of the way, but I was pretty sure some of it still got wet.

“It’s okay,” he breathed, holding me at the back as I retched. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Blinking my eyes open, I saw only a bleary wetness clouding my vision. I was crying - no, heaving. Another wave hit me and I heard Elain ask Rhys distantly if I was going to be okay. I sat back and let Rhys rub my back as he asked Elain to see if she could find a towel or paper or something to wipe me up with. It was only then that I realized I’d fallen into the snow, saw how the dark liquid stained the crisp white like a poison.

“Pants,” I said. Rhys made sure Elain brought some. “I think… I think I can go back now. I’m-”

“We’ll stop at the next gas station and get you something to eat. Crackers? Iced tea?”

I looked into his eyes and saw worry waiting for me. Worry and an ounce of grief. I wondered if I had been so grief stricken myself if I would have recognized it in him. I hated seeing him that way. “Maybe a soda this time would be nice,” I admitted. Rhys sighed and held me to him until he was sure I could make it. It was a very long time until that moment came.

But eventually, it did.

We walked back to the car and I could hear Nesta and Elain arguing on the other side of it. I hadn’t realized Nesta had gotten out. Through the window, her eyes were stained red and had that same kind of grief in them I’d seen in Rhys. The kind of redness that’s too much and forces you to look away.

“Feyre,” she began, but I looked away and opened my door.

“Let’s just go home,” I said.

Nesta pulled out her laptop as soon as Rhys had the keys in the ignition. No one said a word until we reached LA.

* * *

From:  [ nestaarcheron@ucla.edu ](mailto:nestaarcheron@ucla.edu)

To:  [ commandercassian@gmail.com ](mailto:commandercass@gmail.com)

Cass,

You were wrong. I fucked up. I fucked everything up.

I know you said I was already doing everything I could for Feyre in my own way, that I didn’t need to say the right thing because I’m better at showing how I feel than saying it. But I tried anyway and it was wrong. All wrong.

I don’t know how to do this. How do I help her? She freaked out. We’re still in the car and she won’t even look at me. I feel like I found dad dead in the apartment all over again except that Feyre keeps coming back to haunt me over and over and it’s never enough to save her.

I’m pretty sure Rhys hates me. I shouldn’t have - whatever. Please keep emailing me now that you’re not restricted to letters. I don’t think I could handle more than a text right now and this feels familiar somehow.

Love,

Nesta

P.S. Thank you for everything this week, for coming to the lodge, for saying yes. I’ll never forget it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre finds her head in a fog coming home from Aspen. Thankfully, her father's memorial provides some much needed comfort before she reaches a breaking point. Elain and Lucien exchange emails.

Maybe it was masochistic of me, but I spent the rest of the drive home thinking about dad.

How much I missed him.

How much I wished he had been there to see Rhys, to see that I wasn’t alone.

How much I wished I didn’t have to freak out trying to say goodbye to him, or acknowledge the fact that I’d spent Christmas largely ignoring him.

I had Rhys drop Nesta and Elain back off at the apartment and asked if I could go home with him and stay the night. He texted Mor to let her know to stay the night at the house since she had changed her flight to go back with Az the following day.

Ten minutes later and a fresh change of clothes, and I was on my way to my friends. Nesta went straight to her room and shut the door without saying goodbye.

“You’re typing awfully fast,” Rhys commented as we breezed through one signal after the next, my fingers flying on my phone.

“I’m telling my mom I don’t want a funeral,” I replied without looking up. The text had gotten rather long. I wanted to get it over with.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“Still a five?”

“Still a five, Rhys.” It came out sharper than I’d intended.

I explained to my mom that if she wanted a funeral, I’d support her decision, but I wouldn’t go. I’d be open to whatever else she wanted. She replied back right away with a simple, “That’s fine with me,” and when Mor came flying out the front door to grab me, whispering “Are you okay?” in my ear, I threw my phone in my purse and didn’t look at it the rest of the night.

* * *

Rhys’s dad took Mor and Az to the airport the next morning before I was even awake. I was glad we didn’t say goodbye. As soon as she left the room to go downstairs, I started sobbing and made sure I was done before finding Rhys. He was already dropping subtle comments again about staying and I didn’t want him getting back on the idea of moving home again. I couldn’t let him delay his dreams just because I was a wreck inside.

So I covered my face in enough makeup to hide the blotchiness on my cheeks and suggested we watch a movie with snacks - no talking required.

Halfway through  _ Fellowship of the Ring _ , my mom sent me a longer text. A funeral wouldn’t happen and apparently she was having dad cremated. She’d spend the week prepping the house with an open invitation to anyone to come by on Sunday for food and drinks. A “celebration of life” she called it. I didn’t see what there was to celebrate, but I was way more on board with these plans than a full-on funeral.

The rest of the week was nothing but a dread-induced coma of Middle Earth marathons (extended editions) and waiting for Rhys to leave. I threw myself into work - hard, taking care of my regular duties on top of event planning. I woke up early every day, went into work early and stayed late until Rhys was free to get me and I didn’t come home until I was sure Nesta and Elain were asleep or out.

Rhys tried to tell me to talk to them - said they were my sisters, we’d had these misunderstandings before, they loved me. But every time I tried to knock on one of their doors, my hand fell away quietly. Half the time, I didn’t even make it out of my room to try.

“It’s okay,” he told me when I said I didn’t want to talk to them. “When you’re ready, you’ll do it. When you’re ready, Feyre, you can do anything.”

I nodded and fell against him, burying my head in his shirt. The jasmine I could smell from his body wash was soothing.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asked, rubbing the back of my head. Just as with Mor, I was saying goodbye a night early so I wouldn’t make a scene at the airport. New York felt so far away.

“Positive,” I said, looking up and trying to give my best smile. “I can do this. I think it’s more the anticipation of you leaving that makes it tough. Once you’re gone, it’ll be easier to handle.”

Rhys didn’t look so sure. It had never been this awkward between us, this forced. “You’ll call me, right? If something happens. Please promise me you’ll call or text or email or write or send smoke signals - something?”

I scowled with what I hoped was an air of humor. “Rhys I’m not an idiot. Of course I’ll call. I’m sorry you have to be so… worried.”

He shook his head. “It’s a privilege - caring for you.” He held me strong and sure against him and for a moment, it felt just like being on that mountainside looking out at the world with him. “I would have no greater honor in this life.”

“You sound like an old Hollywood movie.”

He smiled. “I am going to miss you immeasurably, Feyre darling.” The words fell soft and sweet against my cheek as he held me up to kiss him once. “Tell me how tomorrow goes.”

“Only after you tell me you’ve landed okay.”

“Another deal.”

He scooped me up and I looked up at the sky from our embrace and couldn’t help but notice the stars weren’t nearly so bright under the smog of LA as they had been in that clear, Colorado sky.

* * *

If I’d ever once questioned my dad’s likeability because of the dysfunction of his family relationships, I never would again.

I didn’t know how exactly mom was going to put the word out about his celebration of life… thing, but whatever she did worked because our house was packed. Apparently being a Hollywood industry professional, even one like dad who was always second-fiddle to mom’s half of the business, meant a huge network of sympathizers.

And Hollywood sympathizers had  _ money _ .

The kind we used to have growing up. Mom had the event catered at the house, but people came with food and flowers and booze like I’d never seen.

I tried my best to ignore the alcohol bottles knowing dad had nearly died from them before he, well… I didn’t want to think about that. Some twisted part of my brain appreciated the morbid irony in seeing our house now filled with the sparkling glass pieces after I’d worked so hard to get them all out. To know that in some dark, fated way, I’d saved my father from something.

Mom didn’t seem to care one way or the other. She’d practically redecorated the entire downstairs. I was shocked when I first stepped inside at how the furniture looked somehow different against what seemed like fresh paint on the walls and new accent pieces throughout. I supposed it was what mom did best and if it was her way of dealing, then I wouldn’t say anything, but I hadn’t been upstairs from how busy she kept me clear up until the first guests arrived and I was little scared what I would find when I finally did go up.

People seemed to appreciate the changes she made, so in a way… if it meant mom was comfortable enough to do this, I was grateful. It was obvious she was unsettled as she dashed about the house, never stopping long enough to really talk to anyone apart from Elain, but she was quiet and calm just as I needed.

Maybe it was selfish of me, but I didn’t think I could have handled meeting all these people in a house I was starting not to recognize in ways I didn’t understand if mom had been uneasy with me.

Everyone who came through the door smiled politely, with that air of sympathy and compassion grating on your soul that I was starting to get used to, before melting right into the plush new pillows on the sofa and easy vanilla from the candles hidden in different corners. I set my hand aside without paying much attention and felt solt, warm velvet.

Yep, mom could sure make a place feel special. It was a shame she’d never done it for us before now.

“Are you… Feyre?”

I nearly collapsed about an hour into the - party? - when a tall, skinny woman with freckles like my own approached me. Until that point, moving had felt too difficult and people seemed content to leave me alone after their typical condolences. It was just too awkward. I’d eaten half the celery tray in less than ten minutes just trying to stay afloat.

“Um, yeah - hi.” I held my hand out awkwardly hoping she wouldn’t notice how sweaty it was. The lady smiled kindly and shook it without indication.

“I worked with your father for five years on some custom pieces for a client.” She hesitated, and her head did the slow, tilt to the side that only meant one thing was coming. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I’d like to think he’s in a better, happier place now. At peace.”

I didn’t know what to say. Everyone always said that:  _ sorry for your loss _ …  _ they’re okay now _ . But all I could think standing there staring at this woman waiting for an answer was that she was here too, wasn’t she? It was her loss to share, not just mine. So why didn’t she get it? Dad was gone and supposedly at peace or maybe not, but what about everyone he left behind? What peace did we get?

“Thanks,” I said and scrambled for anything to deflect. “You said five years?” The lady nodded. “What kind of client needs five years to get their furniture together?”

She laughed and my skin tickled. No one ever sounded half so pleasant at the mention of something to do with dad as this woman did now. “That’s precisely what your father said. He never told you about that project? Shit, now that I think about it, you weren’t even born yet. Your sisters were though, I wonder if they knew.”

My sisters. One of whom was making polite conversation in the backyard, the eldest busying herself in the kitchen to avoid talking to anyone.

“Maybe,” I said, staring into my glass.

“Fuck, would you… like to hear about it?” I looked up and must have appeared surprised because the lady smirked. “I’m Evelyn,” she said. “And I think Jim is on your couch. He worked with us on the project. I’m sure we have some stories we could share. If you’re up for it, of course.”

She was one of those people who swore unnaturally, trying to be cool with a lexicon that they didn’t quite know how to deal with. And I wasn’t sure by her abrupt offer if she made it purely out of guilt.

And yet.

Her eyes were very bright. Earnest. The kind that could tell a story suited to my soul. A deep part of me recognized then that I trusted her. It was no more than a feeling deep in my gut and in that moment, it was all I needed to nod my acceptance.

I sat on the couch for what felt like hours listening to one story after the next. Even Elain came in to sit in the corner and listen. If Nesta or mom was around, I had no idea, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was  _ more _ . More of their words, their history. More of  _ dad _ .

And dad, as it turned out, had been loved by more than just my small family.

For the first time in my life, I had living proof all around me. People came and went throughout the day sharing their stories - how they met him, what working with him was like, when they last saw him, favorite memories, and on and on it went. Being so much younger than my sisters and closer to the era when things fell apart, I hadn’t heard most of the conversation. I committed as much of it to memory as I could, vowing to write it down when I got home.

I laughed. I cried. I listened. And these strangers shared it all with me. I looked at Elain and she was crying too. She would have possibly remembered a lot of these experiences they described to us. I almost got up and went to her at one point as we caught eyes amid a quiet, comforting laughter shared between friends like a secret… almost. The gap across the sea of stories was just a tad too wide.

By seven o’clock, the crowd had thinned considerably. But I felt full inside and out. And not just because I’d managed to eat something other than celery finally amongst all the chatter.

“Um, Feyre?” I blinked up drearily and found Elain standing next to me on the couch, holding a thick quilted blanket. It took too long for my brain to register what was happening and she mistook it for an awkwardness, hurriedly giving me the blanket and stepping back. “You were falling asleep. I just didn’t want you to be cold.”

She walked out of the room, passing Nesta in the doorway who had been watching. I blinked and she was gone too. In the two seconds I saw her, she looked like she might have been worried. I’d barely gotten the blanket tucked around me before sleep took me and I was out.

Even without Rhys there, I had made it. Survived. He’d been right. When I was ready, I could do anything.

Or so, I thought

* * *

From:  [ elainarcheron@ucla.edu ](mailto:elainarcheron@ucla.edu)

To:  [ lucienvanserra@ucla.edu ](mailto:lucienvanserra@ucla.edu)

Subject: Botany 10 Final Exam Grades

Hello Discussion 1B Students!

Thank you all so much for a wonderful fall quarter together. You were one of my best sections to teach thus far and I certainly hope to see many of you around campus. Never be afraid to say hi if you spot me!

Final exam grades are now posted to the course website and can be accessed via the student portal with your personal pin. I apologize for the delay in preparing your grades as my winter holiday was more hectic than planned due to personal circumstances. But I’ve spoken with Professor Hartford and she’s assured me the delay won’t affect anything for you on your end of things. Don’t hesitate to let me know if any issues with the registrar offices should occur.

Thank you again for a great class. Best of luck with Winter Quarter!

Cheers,

Elain Archeron

M.A. Botany, UCLA

[ elainarcheron@ucla.edu ](mailto:elainarcheron@ucla.edu)

Office Hours: M 10-12 & W 1-2:30

* * *

DRAFT

From:  [ lucienvanserra@ucla.edu ](mailto:lucienvanserra@ucla.edu)

To:  [ elainarcheron@ucla.edu ](mailto:elainarcheron@ucla.edu)

Subject: RE: Botany 10 Final Exam Grades

Dear Elain,

Is everything okay? What happened over break-

 

DRAFT

From:  [ lucienvanserra@ucla.edu ](mailto:lucienvanserra@ucla.edu)

To:  [ elainarcheron@ucla.edu ](mailto:elainarcheron@ucla.edu)

Subject: RE: Botany 10 Final Exam Grades

Dear Elain,

Great news about grades being in! I’d been wondering, but of course you were busy-

 

DRAFT

From:  [ lucienvanserra@ucla.edu ](mailto:lucienvanserra@ucla.edu)

To:  [ elainarcheron@ucla.edu ](mailto:elainarcheron@ucla.edu)

Subject: RE: Botany 10 Final Exam Grades

Dear Elain,

How do I ask you about what happened without sounding like a nosy prick? I just want to know if you’re alright. Did that other TA you were seeing do something? If he hurt you-

DRAFT

From:  [ lucienvanserra@ucla.edu ](mailto:lucienvanserra@ucla.edu)

To:  [ elainarcheron@ucla.edu ](mailto:elainarcheron@ucla.edu)

Subject: RE: Botany 10 Final Exam Grades

Dear Elain,

How do I ask you about what happened without sounding like a nosy prick  _ and _ a jealous asshole?

 

SENT

From:  [ lucienvanserra@ucla.edu ](mailto:lucienvanserra@ucla.edu)

To:  [ elainarcheron@ucla.edu ](mailto:elainarcheron@ucla.edu)

Subject: RE: Botany 10 Final Exam Grades

Dear Elain,

Thank you very much for the update regarding final exam grades. I’m sorry to hear that personal matters complicated your holiday, but I hope that everything is alright. I’m certain attending to academic duties could not have been easy while life had other ideas in mind.

I’ve decided my thumb is nowhere near as green as yours and so, I will not be continuing on in the introductory botany series. However, if you should need anything, you can always reach out or perhaps let Feyre know. I would be happy to be of assistance.

All my best,

Lucien

[ lucienvanserra@ucla.edu ](mailto:lucienvanserra@ucla.edu)

(310) XXX-XXXX

* * *

From:  [ elainarcheron@ucla.edu ](mailto:elainarcheron@ucla.edu)

To:  [ lucienvanserra@ucla.edu ](mailto:lucienvanserra@ucla.edu)

Subject: RE: RE: Botany 10 Final Exam Grades

Dear Lucien,

How very kind of you to reach out. Thank you for that! I mean it when I say that your sympathies are very much appreciated. I have not had a chance to be open about things really, so it is nice to hear from a familiar face.

To be truthful, I’m a little surprised Feyre hasn’t filled you in on what’s been going on, though she has seemed a little out of sorts herself. Perhaps I could ask a favor from you after all? Unfortunately, our father passed away shortly before Christmas. It was rather unexpected and horrific. Feyre has been somewhat distant from my sister and I ever since.

I know she’s come to really count on you as a friend the past few months since Rhys and Mor went away to school. Would you maybe be willing to reach out to her and see if everything is alright? Nesta and I would be forever grateful, though we know it might be a lot to ask given the circumstances. Please let me know if it’s too much to ask.

Cheers,

Elain

\--

_ Elain Archeron _

_ M.A. Botany, UCLA _

[ _ elainarcheron@ucla.edu _ ](mailto:elainarcheron@ucla.edu)

_ Office Hours: M 10-12 & W 1-2:30 _

* * *

From:  [ lucienvanserra@ucla.edu ](mailto:lucienvanserra@ucla.edu)

To:  [ elainarcheron@ucla.edu ](mailto:elainarcheron@ucla.edu)

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Botany 10 Final Exam Grades

Dear Elain,

I cannot begin to express how truly sorry I am to hear about your family’s loss. My own father and I have a rather unbalanced relationship, but to imagine losing him one day seems impossible. I can only wonder at what you must be dealing with. And to be so open and honest about it. I don’t think I would be quite so courageous.

No, Feyre has not mentioned anything to me. Given that I believe Rhys and his family were home for the holiday, I’m sure she was plenty distracted. Since we’re being honest, I can’t say that I’m altogether surprised she hasn’t taken the passing well. We haven’t really spent a lot of time together the last few months and, well, we are still healing from things ourselves. But I know her dad meant a great deal to her and that she was sad about moving out, almost as if she had lost him a second time to start with.

I’ll be sure to give her a call before break is over. Knowing her, she’ll hate that we’re discussing her. But, like you, I care enough to want her to be alright. If anything is truly wrong, I’ll pass word along and do my best to help. It’s no trouble at all.

All my best,

Lucien

\--

[ _ lucienvanserra@ucla.edu _ ](mailto:lucienvanserra@ucla.edu)

_ (310) XXX-XXXX _


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre has her worst breakdown yet as everything comes to a boiling point in her life re: family drama. In the middle of complete collapse, who will help her pick up the pieces and does she even want to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****Extreme trigger warnings for grief, depression, and suicide.*****

Everything was a dark, deep grey. And silent. So very, very silent.

Eventually, I was able to distinguish the dull ticking of the old clock somewhere nearby. Each faint tick seemed to move another grey cloud by for me to count, the clouds themselves growing lighter and lighter with each passing stroke.

The last thing I was made of aware of was that I was warm. It felt delicious, the blanket wrapped snugly around me, locking me in place against something velvety and soft. A pillow maybe? Whatever it was, it felt nice.

And that was right about where the niceness stopped. Despite the cozy haze I found myself nestled in, as though it knew what might come along later, something was off.

Then it hit me.

None of this was familiar. None of this was dad’s. Not the pillows or the couch or the blanket.

Why did mom change it? For the memorial alone?

Shit.

Dad.

The memorial.

He was still-

My eyes flew open and stark morning light pouring through the windows threatened to blind me.

“Oh good, you’re up.” Elain came into room, still in pajamas and nursing a cup of tea. “I thought you had work today?” She gave me a quizzical look and slowly, my brain brushed aside any previous thought and caught up.

“Work? Oh-” I felt around for my phone and couldn’t find it anywhere within the jumble of pillows and blankets until finally it turned up just under the couch. It must have fallen out of my pocket at some point during the night. The lock screen showed a couple of texts from various people, including Rhys, but all I saw was the time. 8:05am.

“Shi- _ it _ !”

“What’s wrong?” Elain frowned, pulling her tea away from where she’d been about to take another sip.

“I’m late,” I said, flying up from the couch. Where was my purse? Where were my clothes? My toothbrush? Did I even have time to brush my hair? “I have to be at work by nine and it’ll take me at least a half hour by bus -  _ if _ they’re on time.”

Elain shook her head. “I’ll drive you. I have to go in anyway and… check on a few things.”

Why she paused was beyond me and just then I didn’t care. “Awesome!” I chirped and snatched her tea as she set it down. It was likely the only breakfast I was going to get save maybe a spot of toast. With how my day was starting off, I had a sneaking suspicion I wouldn’t be quite so lucky.

* * *

A series of mishaps followed me throughout my day, one right after the other until I started to wonder if I’d ever really woken up on that couch.

My phone died on the way to work, so I had to spend the first twenty minutes of my shift waiting for it to charge up enough to use it. I couldn’t find my office key and thought I’d left it in the car, but by the time Elain got back, I found it in my pocket. And since I’d dashed madly out of the house that morning, I’d grabbed only my purse, forgetting that my notes and contracts were in my overnight bag back at the house. Fortunately I had my phone’s digital copies, once it charged up enough to access them.

Alis, though a tad abrupt, made no fuss whatsoever about my extended leave of absence that I was secretly referring to as my ongoing leave of madness instead. Any awkwardness I feared at returning to the gallery full-time knowing Alis and her neurotic tendencies was immediately put at ease. And I was so, so grateful not to have to deal with that.

And Lena.

Thank the stars for Lena.

She kept my brain plenty busy and my attention focused. When I nearly dropped my coffee all over my pants, she was there for the catch. And when I started getting frazzled because the printer was out of ink and I couldn’t for the life of me remember how to change it, she handled it no problem before anyone else could notice.

I was going to have to buy her one massive, late Christmas gift this week for helping me out. I only wished she didn’t have to go back to her desk with her own work every time we met up during the day. It would have been nice to talk and listen to go on about how annoying the kitchen chefs were, the way Mor would have.

Mor.

She and Az were back in Seattle by this point. And we hadn’t chatted much. Some nights it made my bones feel like they were gears grinding around inside my head in need of greasing and I wanted to vomit for how guilty it made me feel.

I missed her, and that was really all there was to it. My heart just still hadn’t accepted it yet.

“Do you have the contracts for the rentals company, Feyre?” Alis breezed over to my cubicle while scrolling through her phone with ease. She almost tripped over a looped cord, but stepped right over it at the last second without ever looking down. “Or did you give them to me already?”

“No, I didn’t,” I admitted, and grabbed my phone to pull up the scans so I could show her, wishing someone had been home to bring me my bag with all of my paperwork in it. “But I have the digital files. I’ll make sure to have hard copies on your desk first thing tomorrow.”

“And how about the catering contracts?”

“I have the digital files for those too, but I can include the finished copies tomorrow with the others.”

“And the lighting contracts?”

I swallowed. “Those as well.”

“Perfect. I’m glad you’re back, Feyre. Get all of the contracts together, finalize the signatures, reaffirm the budget’s on track, and then start on organizing the timeline for the day - setup, go time, and breakdown.” She looked up from her phone, a dopey almost sedated look on her face. “Eight weeks to go.”

With the laziest smile she’d ever presented me, she walked away in almost a dream state. Probably because she was grateful to no longer have to do all of the legwork, though I was comforted to hear she enjoyed having me back at it.

“I have got to get those contracts,” I mumbled to myself. Normally, I’d be bussing home tonight back to the apartment. Now I’d have to swing back to the house first to get the rest of my stuff and that would be a lot less hassle if I did it tonight instead of in the morning.

_ Feyre: Save me some dinner. Running by mom and dad’s. Forgot all my shit for work and need it for the morning. _

_ Elain: It’s at mom’s? _

_ Elain: Come by here. I’m out right now. I’ll stop by and get it. _

_ Feyre: Thanks, but I’ll just go. I left some clothes there too. Wanna make sure I have everything. Those papers are super important. You can pick me up though? _

_ Elain: I’ll get everything. _

_ Elain: Sister swear. _

_ Feyre: There’s no such thing as a sister swear. _

_ Elain: Sure there is. We did that all the time when we were kids. _

_ Feyre: Maybe when you and Nesta were kids, but you never told me about it _ .

_ Elain: Well I’m telling you now. _

_ Elain: Just ditch mom’s okay. _

I glanced at the clock at the top of my phone.

5:02.

I was officially done and given that the sun set so much earlier in LA during the winter, I wanted to get a move on rather than risk creepy nighttime losers on the bus.

_ Feyre: Just pick me up at mom’s. It’s already getting dark and I gotta go. _

_ Elain: Feyre no just COME HERE I HAVE YOUR FOOD! _

_ Feyre: Save it for me! _

I threw my phone in my purse and didn’t think twice about it. Dinner could wait and Elain could deal.

My luck seemed to be turning around because I caught my bus without a problem and it even got me over to dad’s neighborhood about two minutes early. The sun was just about set in a beautiful cascade of pink and yellow that reminded me sharply of Colorado. I took a deep inhale as I walked my way through the last of the streets leading home and pretended I could still scent the pine and snow on the air instead of the intense LA smog.

If Rhys had been there, he would have taken my hand, kissed the back of it, and asked me if I wanted to attempt a California snow angel with him. I chuckled, out loud, as if I were really having the conversation and told him there wasn’t any snow in SoCal, winter be damned. He would merely shake his head in that devious way of his, that cat smile sitting squarely on his face, and lean in to whisper against my ear, “We can make our own snow, darling.”

Shivers ran down my spine at the thought.

Shivers, that quickly turned to actual chills as I came to a full stop outside my house and stared at the lawn.

Fresh earth had been turned up at the front of the yard to make the perfect sized hole for the white, wooden crossbeam now filling it up, a metal sign hanging off the upper post and a box of fliers promising hopes and dreams filling it out. Somebody else’s hopes and dreams. Not, apparently, mom’s or even my own anymore.

Goosebumps erupted over my arms and I was very, very cold. Tears sprang forth automatically as if to keep the chill at bay. I couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. Didn’t understand why this was happening now or at all.

I’d always thought maybe one day mom would want to leave the house, get somewhere different. Maybe her old apartment now that all three of us girls had moved out?

But dad’s memorial was  _ yesterday _ . She didn’t even wait  _ one day _ . Less than that, even.

I opened the little plastic flier box on the for sale sign and looked at all of the details and photos advertizing dad’s house that would convince buyers it was the perfect home for them.

Them.

Not us.

The list of features was extensive, staggering even. And the photos showcased the new furniture. This wasn’t the kind of thing to get planned in day. Which meant…

Holy fuck, she’d planned this while we were in Colorado, hadn’t she? Was that why she wanted us to go? Not so we could feel a little happier during our grief, but so she could jump ship again?

White hot fury blazed a fire down my arms, replacing the cold and the chill and the little broken bumps eating me away as my hands crumpled the paper and tossed it. The rest of the fliers were next. My fingers tore into the box and removed them all in heaps, ripping them to shreds until there was nothing but little scraps sprinkling the neatly mowed grass.

The tears having stalled in the midst of my storm, I ran up the walkway until I reached the porch and slammed the front door open. My mom practically screamed as she came barreling down the stairs. All I saw was the furniture filling out our living room.

Brand, spanking new furniture.

Rented? To stage a house for buyers? Not to make your friends and family comfortable, like I’d thought, at a memorial service?

My eyes landed on the velvet pillows and blankets I’d slept on the previous night and I felt a burn sting behind them.

“Feyre, what the hell is going on? Is everything okay?”

Almost in the same fog I’d seen Alis in earlier, I slowly brought my attention over to my mom. She was still standing on the stairs, breathing hard as though she’d run to see what had caused such alarm, almost afraid of how out of control I looked to take the final step down to meet me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I croaked.

Her shoulders fell. “Tell you what?”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare.”

“Feyre, I’m not sure-”

“You’re selling the house, mom! You’re selling  _ his _ house.  _ Dad’s _ house. And you didn’t think to mention it to us?”

Her lips parted slightly with a slight tremble and I saw her overthink what I’d just said. Somewhere beneath my skin, I felt my blood begin to turn from its simmer and back to a full boil.

“You told them, didn’t you? Nesta and Elain.”

Mom closed her mouth and seemed to tense, steeling herself against me. And that’s when I saw it: the sharp mother I’d grown up with came back into her eyes. The one who was fearless, who had no problem sharing her thoughts with me about what had wronged her and why the world was to blame for every problem under the sun. And then, that woman shook.

“Only Elain. I didn’t bother with Nesta.”

“Why?”

Mom shrugged. “Because I knew she wouldn’t care.”

Any surprise I had at her decision to only tell Elain was wiped away in a shattering instant. Of course Nesta wouldn’t care. That didn’t mean she didn’t deserve to know. And after our week in Colorado, I wasn’t sure anyone apart from Cassian really knew what was going on inside her head anymore, or behind her heart.

Would it have even mattered if she hadn’t cared? She deserved to know.

“And what about me, huh? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Please don’t, honey. I was going to tell-”

“ _ When _ ?” It was too sharp for her to pretend she hadn’t heard me speak to her like that. She probably never thought I would dare.

She almost did it then. Almost lied to me again, tried to cover it up and pretend like she would have called me after I got off work, or maybe if she’d only caught me before leaving the house this morning.

Instead, she sighed long and hard. “I don’t know, Fey. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, tears spilling fresh down my cheeks as I resumed surveying the room. So many little details seemed to jump out at me that I’d missed before at the memorial when I’d been too busy concentrating on dad.

All of our photos were gone from the walls. Did she keep them? Give them to Nesta or Elain? Dad’s old lazy chair was gone from the corner. She probably just threw that right out. Had she kept the walls white because they were buyer-friendly or because she just didn’t care? Given enough time, I could have painted them, just like my-

“Wait, wait,  _ wait _ .” All of the air in my lungs seemed to collapse. “What else did you change?”

By the time I managed to pull myself together enough to look at her again, mom looked genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

“Did you change…” my eyes drifted up to the ceiling. “You know, everything else too. New furniture, new… paint?”

“Well of course. If we’re going to sell, we have to get the house ready.”

Slowly, I closed my eyes and tasted the salt as it soaked into my tongue.

Just like Nesta would never have cared, my mom would never have understood the significance of what she was asking.

“Feyre, honey, what’s is it? You do understand we have to sell, right?”

My eyes snapped open. “No mom,” I said, storming past her on the stairs. “I don’t understand why  _ we _ have to do anything.”

“Feyre-”

I didn’t give her a chance. I climbed the stairs and ran and ran and ran until I was skipping steps up the stairwell that led to the attic room. What had always been  _ my _ attic room for the brief two years I’d gotten to live here with dad. Too short a time, my heart cried out as I threw the door open and stumbled inside.

It didn’t matter that I already knew what waiting for me inside. I had to see it for myself.

Blank, crisp white walls held up an even blander ceiling. All those stars and galaxies I’d painted with thoughts of Rhys and my friends in mind -  _ my family through all the shit of the last few years _ \- were gone. Wiped out with less strokes than it took me to create it until nothing but this endless void was left.

All because mom hadn’t needed to think twice about whether or not to stay in the home dad built for himself when she decided we were no longer worth being a family with.

I sobbed. Harder than I’d ever sobbed except maybe only when I’d found dad at the apartment. And even though I’d painted those stars for someone else, it felt like he had been a part of them somehow anyway and now I was losing him all over again. Like he was  _ leaving _ me again without caring how badly I wanted him to stay.

And it didn’t matter how lovingly I stroked the walls willing the heavens to reappear. Just like dad, they were never coming back.

I didn’t keep track of how long I stood there, but it couldn’t have been long. After just a few minutes, the bleak white walls made me feel literally sick, like I might throw up at any minute from lack of breath.

Shakily, I practically fell my way down the stairs. Mom was sitting on the couch with her arms around herself. When she spotted me, she stood up at once and rubbed her hands over arms like it would make her warm enough to shield herself from me.

“Feyre,” she started.

“Fuck you!”

I screamed it. Loud and clear.

Unlike the night she walked out on us, mom looked like she’d just been struck dead by a car and couldn’t believe it.

“Honey,  _ please _ .” Her voice finally cracked.

“I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want to hear how you killed him!”

My chest heaved and my heart ached. Mom said nothing.

I couldn’t stand to look at her. I only knew that I had to get out of there -  _ and fast _ .

I flew out the door and kept right on going. I didn’t stop for a very long while, not until my legs ached and my stomach cramped. And by that point, I had no idea what street I was on or how far the buses were. I couldn’t have even made it back to the house for Elain to pick me up.

And I didn’t want her to anyway. I was a sobbing, heaping mess.

My tears became audible as I slowed to walk gasping for air. I didn’t have a sweater and the temperature was dropping by the minute. Anyone who could have seen me in the daylight probably would have thought I was a zombie. Now, it was pitch dark. Not even the moon was out.

All I could think about what that mom had fucked up again. And just like the last time, I had no room in my heart to hear her out and understand why.

_ She killed him _ , I thought.  _ She did this to him, she drove him to hate himself because she hated him. _

Tears completely blinded my vision and I fell over. A burn went across my palm that quickly turned warm and wet. I only cried harder trying to clear my eyes enough to see the blood on my hand before realizing I’d probably just smeared it across my face wiping at myself.

_ Your fault, _ I cried.

_ Your fault. _

I stared down at the blood on my hands. I’d always been just like him and now… now the blood was staining me.

“This is your fault, Feyre. Your fault. Dad’s gone because of you.”

Nesta had said I always tried too hard with dad to save him. The reality was I hadn’t tried hard enough.

Accepting my fate and my fault, I finished falling all the way to the cold, hard concrete, curling up into a ball. If I cried long and hard enough, if I stayed and admitted enough of my sins, maybe the earth would swallow me whole and then I could be free like dad too.

The night seemed to agree with it’s aching quiet. Not even a car seemed to go by. No one opened their door to see who had caused a scene outside their front yard.

_ Stay _ .  _ Stay down. Stay like this forever _ .

Another sob racked out of me. Is this how dad had felt? When he hung the rope? The thought made me so sick, I couldn’t handle it. My head pounded.

_ I don’t want to be here anymore _ .

There it was. The thought I hated most was back and it was stuck on repeat inside my head. And when I got too close to wondering how to make my darkest wish come true, I reached feebly for my purse and pulled out my phone.

But who was I going to call? Or text? Who was actually going to come and save me?

I lowered my phone back down.

Rhys and Mor would have been there in a heartbeat, if they could. But they were hours away. And by then… oh fuck what would happen to me by then? Who would I even be? Would I still be me at all?

Or would I still be this… this… monstrous mess slowly dying on the ground? I wouldn’t want them to see that version of me anyway.

My phone fell and I lay still in a blind haze of sorrow, allowing myself to cry or not cry as my brain deemed necessary until my eyes had closed.

_ Slam! _

Slowly, I blinked myself awake, startled by the first noise in the dark. Footsteps followed.

From where I lay, I could just see a tall figure walking down the sidewalk toward me, from their car parked a few vehicles up. Had I been in a better state of mind, I probably would have panicked. Just then, I was entirely indifferent.

The stranger slowed as they approached, leaning over slightly to inspect my remains. “Feyre?” Adrenaline pumped through my veins picking up the slow crawl of the blood that had long since stopped fuming after I’d fallen over. “Feyre, is that you?” the voice asked. It was worried to the point that I almost couldn’t recognize it.

Almost.

The stranger stooped over me, long hair falling past their shoulders. “Holy shit, Feyre,” the they said.

And it was my name, said with such care, that called me back.

“Lu-Lucien?”

I could barely speak. When did I get so cold? Was I dead?

“Come on,” Lucien said, and he scooped me easily into his arms and carried me to his car.

Guess I wasn’t dead after all. Too bad.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre and Lucien have a very honest heart to heart about mental health. Along the way, Feyre learns some surprising new information about Lucien's family that leads her to consider what her next steps are in figuring out her own health issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got some really lovely encouragement on the last few chapters. Thank you all for that! I know the last chapter was rather dramatic, so hopefully this will be a nice reprieve. It's automatically become one of my favorite (if not the favorite) of the whole fic. I hope you enjoy!

I buckled myself into the car seat. Only heaven knows how I managed that feat on my own. Lucien got into the driver’s side and took off. Neither of us said anything.

I was vaguely aware of our surroundings as Lucien navigated us out of the suburban side streets and into the city. At least I hadn’t gone so far as to leave my own neighborhood. Freeway signs emerged and I realized Lucien wasn’t planning on taking me back to the house. Once we passed the off ramp closer to Westwood, I realized I wouldn’t be going back to my apartment either.

A half an hour went by in silence until finally, we exited and pulled into a hospital parking lot. My entire body woke up in one deep shudder and I found myself reaching for the clasp on my seat belt.

“Whoa,” Lucien said, grabbing for my hand. “Chill. I’m not turning you in.”

It wasn’t so late for the lot to be deserted. It was a hospital, after all. But it was quiet enough that Lucien managed to stop in the middle of the parking lane to stare me down. My gaze lingered with him and as I looked at him for the first time since he’d found me, really looked at him, I saw deep pockets under his eyes encircling rings of red.

Lucien was tired. Exceedingly so.

Gently, I nodded. Lucien let go of me, and parked the car on the opposite side of the ER entrance.

He took a deep breath and fell back against the seat, cutting the engine. The keys stayed in the ignition. Lucien simply stared.

Right as I was about to come up with something to say, a thank you maybe or to ask him what we were doing here, he popped open the center console and took out what was clearly a bright orange prescription bottle. My breath caught.

“I have to go inside,” Lucien said, staring at me again. “You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. You can stay here. Or find me later. I might be a while.”

I wanted to say something. I wanted to ask why. Everything that had brought me to this exact moment seemed to fly from my head. My body was relaxing finally, distracted by this new sudden turn of events. What the hell had just happened?

Instead, I stayed quiet, only offering another nod of understanding. Lucien seemed to understand that I wasn’t going with him. I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved as he popped the prescription bottle open and removed a tiny, hexagon like pill.

“This,” and he held up the little grey thing, “is Xanax.” He closed the center console back up, placing the pill on top and the bottle in his pocket. “It’s for anxiety. If you start to feel overwhelmed again, take it. It’ll help you calm down.”

I must have recoiled or maybe my general appearance was such a mess that Lucien grabbed my shoulder and forced me to look back at him. “It’s not a high dose, Feyre. I promise, it won’t hurt you. Just take it if you need to, okay?” He let go and sighed, returning his gaze to the hospital. “I have to go. Text me if you wanna come in.”

And then he was gone. Out of the car with the speed of a bullet as if taking his time would be enough to let him change his mind about going in altogether.

I waited until he disappeared behind the sliding entrance doors, lit up by the fake luminescent lights that always hurt my eyes, then looked back at the pill sitting between me and where Lucien had been only moments ago.

He wanted me to take it? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Lucien told me it would only calm me down if I needed it. Well I was calm, wasn’t I? No more sweating, shaking hands, though my palm was still caked with dried blood from when I’d fallen, probably not optimal for visiting a hospital.

And I’d stopped crying since the moment we’d hit the 405 and started really driving farther and farther away from my mom. I pulled the visor down in front of me and saw my cheeks were free of mascara streaks even if they were puffy and swollen. At least running late this morning had been good for something.

I snapped the little mirror back up into place. Why had Lucien brought me to a hospital? If he lied and he really was here to turn me in to the psych ward, he wouldn’t have ditched me in the car. He’d said he would be a while, but if Lucien wasn’t sick himself, then why go in at all?

Wait, was Lucien sick?

I could physically feel my heart rate gather speed at the thought and I closed my eyes at once simultaneously trying not to look at the little pill on my left and willing myself to calm down.

“Not again,” I whispered into the quiet car. “Not again, you’re fine. You’re fine. You’re not alone and…” I inhaled, blowing out as much air from my lungs as I could muster as I finished, “you’re  _ fine. _ ”

Was I, though? After everything I’d just done? Chewing out my  _ mother _ ? Walking out on my family and sobbing hysterically through the streets like some… some crazy person?

My head shot straight to the pill. Xanax. I only knew that name from television commercials and bus stop posters advertising that help was out there, available.  _ Ask your doctor if Xanax is right for you today! _ That’s what the posters always said.

The reality was it didn’t matter what slogan they came up with. Dad had gone crazy and there was no fixing crazy once it happened. Was I on the same path?

Unable to take thinking about what had happened any longer as my head started to pound, I returned my thoughts to Lucien. I didn’t really think he was sick. If he was, I found it doubtful he’d be scheduling his hospital treatments at however late it was by now.

Which meant there was someone else inside who was ill, who Lucien was here to see. I only ever knew Lucien to hang out with Tamlin, and he was in the middle of the midwest right now. Did Lucien even really have any other friends? I’d never met them if he did. Maybe it was someone from school he’d met during his fall quarter. Or maybe it was a family member. Either way, it proved to me what a shitty friend I’d become for how little I’d gotten to know him the last few months.

So much for trying to start over.

I tried to remember that Lucien had come for me tonight. And I knew better than anyone that families aren’t always what you think they are. So I reached for the door handle and yanked, stepping out into the crisp night air. This time, it didn’t threaten to kill me.

A nurse stopped me almost as soon as I stepped inside and caused me to almost bolt in another shock of panic. Fuck, I shouldn’t have been so skittish. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Are you okay?” Before I could tell her that, no, I was definitely anything but  _ okay _ , she pointed at my hand. “That doesn’t look so good.”

Instinctively, I wanted to grab my sleeve and pull it down to cover up the blood so I could wash it out in peace, but she took my clean arm and led me to the nurses station. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. It won’t take long.”

I supposed in the end it was a good thing she’d helped me. The scrape wasn’t so bad once we got all the dirt and blood cleared away. A band aid and a little antiseptic ended up being all I needed, not even enough to fill out paperwork. “All done,” she said, and jumped up with a smile. “You can go now.”

“Thanks,” I said. She nodded and went back to some paperwork while I stood in the aisle like a lost puppy. I had no idea where Lucien was. “Um, I’m actually trying to find someone.”

The nurse looked back at me and I saw that her eyes were soft and brown, just like Mor’s. It made me trust her.

“What’s the name, sweetheart?”

“Feyre,” I said.

She shook her head. “No Feyre’s admitted here tonight, I’m afraid.”

“Oh no,” I said, feeling like a total idiot. “I’m sorry, I thought you meant - nevermind. I’m visiting… um, Vanserra?”

Suddenly, her face fell. “Oh,” she said with that same nod of sympathy I’d been getting from strangers ever since dad had died. “Take the elevator up to the third floor. Room 321. It might be at max capacity for visitors already, so just knock before you go in, okay?”

I didn’t have it in me to say anything. I just left and got to the elevator as fast as I could. While I waited for the lift to come back down to ground level, my eyes caught the directory board sitting to the right of the call buttons and browsed until I found my destination.

_ Floor 3: Oncology _

Cancer?

The elevator doors pinged open and I jumped back before dashing inside and frantically hitting the button with the little number three on it. It lit up and thank the stars no one else was there to delay my arrival.

If not for the fact that it was a hospital and the nurses probably would have had security kick me out, I would have run. Instead, I walked at my fastest speed until I found Room 321. It appeared to be a private room and the blinds were shut so I couldn’t see in.

Should I knock, like the nurse said? Or wait outside on one of the seats? I didn’t really know who was in there or what I might find. Lucien had said I could come up if I wanted to, but that could have been a lie, just something nice to say so I wouldn’t freakout again at being left alone.

I was about to knock when the door twitched and out walked Lucien as though he’d heard me thinking.

Lucien paused, then glanced back behind him and decided shutting the door was a good idea. Maybe I should have just stayed in the car after all.

“Hey,” he finally said, shoving his hands in his pockets like Rhys sometimes did when he was nervous about something or feeling uncomfortable. I never thought I’d see Lucien like that.

“I’m sorry,” I said straight away. “I’ll go back downstairs. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, Feyre it’s fine.” Lucien stepped around me so I could just run back to the elevator and ditch. I seemed to be doing that sort of thing a lot lately and it didn’t sit well with me how little I knew this person I’d become. “I was just going to get some coffee. You want some? It’s not far.”

I considered him, making sure he really meant it, and when he didn’t flinch or turn away, I nodded. “Lead the way.”

Lucien strode down the hallway, waved hello at the nurses sitting at the station desk, and together we rounded the corner. I could seen vending machines at the end of another long hallway filled with rooms. My heart sank to think that they were all occupied with cancer patients.

“So…” I said, not really sure where to start.

“It’s my mom,” Lucien said. “Breast cancer.”

That explained the redness in his eyes and the way his cheeks had hollowed out. The rest of him, though, seemed fit. Surprisingly so.

“Fuck that.”

I bit my lip, worried I’d just royally screwed up and said the wrong thing. It was just that, after everything with dad, I was so sick of hearing  _ I’m sorry _ from people that I couldn’t stand the thought of putting that on someone else.

Lucien chuckled, and pushed back some of the hair that fallen in front of his face before reaching for his wallet. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly.”

I got some of my own money out of my purse, taking exactly 0.3 seconds to decide it wasn’t worth checking my phone yet to see how many frantic messages would (or wouldn’t) be waiting for me asking what the hell was going on. After much debate between us, I settled on a Snickers bar and Arizona green tea while Lucien took a protein bar and a heavily caffeinated black coffee.

When we got back to Room 321, Lucien went straight to the chairs set outside the door and sat down. So I sat down next to him not asking why he didn’t want to go back inside and sit with his mom.

“I really can leave, if you need me to,” I said. “I promise, I won’t freak out again if I’m just sitting in your car for a while. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your family.”

Lucien made a  _ hmm _ -ing sound deep in his throat and took a sip of his coffee, staring straight ahead. “You’re fine. It’s nice to have the company, even if it is  _ you _ .”

I saw him glance at me from the corner of his eyes and couldn’t help a small smirk. It felt good to hear him take a jab at me, almost normal. I cracked open my Arizona and sank back into the stiff plastic chair. Couldn’t they at least make these things more comfortable? People came here to die. It seemed like the least they could do was put some cushions down.

We ate in peaceable  **s** ilence for a while, until our snacks were gone and we only had our drinks to nurse. I was still a little chilly from being outside and was starting to wish I’d gone for a hot beverage too when Lucien’s head fell backward and thunked gently against the window pane of his mom’s room.

“How long has your mom had breast cancer?” I asked and was assured to hear my voice no longer sounded like a ghost was controlling my tongue.

Lucien sighed. “The technical answer is ten years. She first got diagnosed back when I was still in elementary school, but she went into remission two years later. She was lucky then. A few rounds of chemo, some hair wigs, and we were good to go.”

I nodded even though his eyes were closed and he couldn’t see me. “And this time?”

Lucien brought his coffee to his lips to try and mask the flinch that twitched at the corners of his eyes, but I still saw it. “This time she hasn’t been so lucky.”

“What’s gonna happen to her?”

Lucien finally opened his eyes as he sank further down in the chair. His blue flannel button-down seemed unusually tight on his arms, which carried a bit of bulge to them. That was new. At least the soft color was a nice compliment to that flaming red hair he carried.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s pretty bad this time. But the doctors are saying if she gets a mastectomy, she’ll have a really good chance at clearing it if it hasn’t already spread to the lymph nodes. We’re waiting for test results to see before she decides, it’s such a massive surgery and I remember even when I was younger the first time she didn’t want that. But then she collapsed at lunch today and now we’re all here.”

“Wait, all of you?”

Lucien nodded. So far as I knew his family, he had four older brothers plus his dad. I wasn’t particularly familiar with any of them and for some reason I didn’t want to be. Especially not here where I was an outsider intruding on a personal moment.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lucien asked. His voice was kind, and yet his eyes retained their hard, unrelenting pace on me. I knew what he was really asking.

No, I didn’t want to talk about what had happened tonight, why he’d had to come get me. Not when his mom was on the other side of the wall behind us potentially dying. It felt cruel and unfair that Lucien was having to watch his mom die a slow, long death, one that was potentially going to be so unbearably painful, while I’d been freaking out over selling a house. It made me feel guilty for being so selfish about the entire ordeal even if I’d had valid reasons at the time.

“Feyre?”

I scowled and refused to look at him. It’s now or never, I figured. And this had been what I’d wanted all along, wasn’t it? Someone to talk to? And why not Lucien when he clearly understood pain, pain he never mentioned to me once before.

“How did you find me tonight?” That felt like a safe place to start.

“Your sister texted me.”

“Which one?”

“Elain.”

No hesitation about it. I didn’t realize they’d exchanged numbers beyond their botany class.

I nodded and chewed on my lower lip some. Lucien took advantage of my apparent helplessness and said, “She’s worried about you. I think both your sisters are. I am too.”

“You are?”

My head swiveled and I could feel myself turning red as tears pricked at my eyes. Why did I always have to cry now whenever someone said anything nice to me?

“Mhm. I texted you this morning and you never replied back. When you didn’t answer, I was a little alarmed, but thought maybe you were just busy. Then Elain called me crying and screaming about how she couldn’t find you, but that you had been in the area and would I know where you’d gone. So I left the hospital and drove down until I spotted you.”

I swiped at a tear rolling down my cheek, uselessly willing Lucien not to see it. Lucien - the friend I thought I’d never really had, come to save the day while his own life went into chaos. I’d never been so grateful.

“Um, why were you worried I wasn’t answering your texts?”

“You never saw them?”

I shook my head. He merely quirked his brows and went back to his coffee.

It was only a partial lie. Technically, I had seen his texts. I just hadn’t read them amidst the scramble to get to work on time. Lucien didn’t appear to want to say anything more on the subject, so I made to dig my phone out of my purse when I remembered what notifications I might have to face if I opened the iMessage app to read what Lucien sent.

Suddenly I felt my hands start to tremble and closed my eyes to focus on getting them to stop.

“You didn’t take the pill, did you?” Lucien asked.

“No.” The word rang out sharp and clear.

“Why not?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Bullshit, Feyre. You do too know. Tell me why.”

“What are you, my therapist?”

“No, I’m your friend and I drove my sorry ass away from my sick mom and family tonight so I could help you and stop your sister from freaking the fuck out. Now tell me the truth. I take those pills myself, so I’m not going to laugh at you when you tell me you didn’t want to be an official crazy person popping anxiety meds left and right.”

My head whizzed back around to gawk at him. “You know about that?”

Lucien snorted. “Of course I know about that. How long do you think it took me to get on pills once I realized I needed them? The answer is  _ a while _ , Feyre.”

“Can I ask you what happened?”

Lucien sighed again and I felt another stab of guilt for what this night was putting on him, all because of me. Still, he answered me. And as always, he was honest.

“There’s not much to tell. I got to high school, started taking AP classes, and…” he shook his head back and forth, threw his free hand up. “I choked. Every morning was spent dreading classes I thought I would fail and every night when I went home having not failed them, I was freaking out that I wasn’t passing them with grades as high as the rest of my family.”

He groaned, and stared up at the ceiling as though upset with himself or maybe some higher entity beyond the hospital walls. “I couldn’t handle anything, Feyre. I’d ditch classes sometimes and just sit in the boy’s bathroom with the stall door locked because I thought my newspaper article sucked. By the time I’d convinced myself that wasn’t the case, I was freaking out again because I’d ditched class. Then there was Tamlin, and all the bullshit he would pull. Pressure from my family. Fucking college applications almost derailed me entirely.”

A short huff of laughter burst out of me and Lucien looked at me incredulously. “I’m sorry, it’s just that… they almost derailed me too, you know.”

“I thought you didn’t apply?”

“I didn’t. But don’t you remember when we were getting those prep packets at the start of the year about applying? Lucien,  _ I _ was freaking out.”

I could still remember it so clearly. Lucien had played it all off in such a bored way, even teasing me at times about how weird I was being, as had been the nature of our relationship back then. Tamlin could not have cared less about what either of us was dealing with then. So much had changed.

“See, Feyre. You’re not the only one. It’s okay to get help when you need it.”

I went silent and could feel my face scrunching up. Help. I had no idea what that word even meant or where to start looking for a definition. All I knew was I needed it - and  _ badly _ . But pills?

_ You’re not crazy. Lucien said so. Chill _ .

My heart murmured it over and over again while my brain continued not to listen.

“I’ve gotta go back inside for a bit,” Lucien said, standing up and downing the rest of his coffee before tossing it in a nearby trash can. “I’ll just be a bit and then I can drive you home?”

“Sure.”

He nodded and went back inside Room 321, closing the door behind him.

My mind drifted back to that pill sitting in Lucien’s car. No matter what Lucien told me or how many “not crazy” mantras I whispered to myself, I knew it in my heart that I wasn’t ready to begin considering taking medication. That felt so… momentous. Like admitting I was really and truly, deeply, deeply sick. And I could  _ not _ afford to go down that road.

I knew I shouldn’t have felt so ashamed that it might be possible. Lucien obviously went through enough to merit needing the meds and he was confident about it. I certainly didn’t think  _ he _ was crazy.

And there was the therapy sessions I’d practically forgotten about. Those hadn’t felt like some insurmountable challenge to face when I’d told mom I wanted to go.

I just needed some time to adjust. Or that’s what I told myself when I stood to meet Lucien and we walked together back down to the parking lot. Lucien took the pill off the center console and popped it back inside his prescription bottle without a word. We didn’t talk again as he drove me home.

“Lucien,” I said when he pulled up in front of my apartment. I noticed he wasn’t going to park. “Do you think you could maybe pick me up in the morning, take me to work?” Lucien’s brow rose, simply surprised. My gut clenched. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot to ask of you right now. You have your own shit going on. I just…” I bit my lip and looked back at my apartment where I could see a light on in the living room. The car dashboard read 11:53. Someone was waiting up for me.

I gulped and pressed on. “I just don’t know what’s waiting for me in there and I-”

“I’ll do it.”

“You will?” He nodded.

“It’s not a problem.”

“You’re sure?” Part of me was hesitant to believe him. The selfish part of me that had walked out on mom and collapsed in the middle of nowhere didn’t care.

“Yeah. I have to go to class anyway and it might be nice to get my head out of everything for a bit. I’ll come get you at 8?”

I let out a relieved sigh, my shoulders sinking gratefully. “Thank you. That would be perfect.”

Lucien nodded and I got out, waving as he drove off and his tail lights grew distant.

Every step back to the apartment grew heavier and heavier. Nesta opened the door before I could get my keys out. Her gaze was even, neutral. Elain, on the other hand, sat on the couch behind her looking a mess. As soon as I stepped inside, she heaved a sob and dashed out to her room, closing the door behind her. I could hear her crying inside.

I felt myself start to fall apart at the seams. Before I could completely crumple and start the cycle all over again, Nesta stepped in front of me.

“I should go talk to her, shouldn’t I?”

Nesta considered me, then slowly shook her head. Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so, actually. She feels like shit.”

“Why? It wasn’t her fault.”

“Tell that to her - in the morning,” she added when I made to step around her. “For now, you both need to get some sleep.”

I nodded and Nesta let me pass. If she saw the bandage on my hand, she didn’t say anything.

I was too tired to shower even though I was sure I needed it. Just as I reached my door, Nesta called me back.

“Feyre?” I looked up, and saw the deepest crease form on Nesta’s face. “I’m glad… that you’re okay.”

For the final time that night, or so I told myself, I felt my eyes sting with the threat of tears. I nodded and Nesta’s chest heaved. She walked toward her own room. I didn’t understand what that meant.

“You, um, going to bed too?” I asked.

“No, I have to finish writing. My defense is in two months and my mentor wants a final draft to review and polish in two weeks so I can start preparing for the defense speech and questioning. I’ll go to sleep in a few hours.”

“Don’t you have seminar in the morning?”

Nesta shrugged. “Yeah, but you do what you gotta do, right?”

“Right.” I turned back to my door, prepared to let her go, and again my sister stopped me.

“I’ll drive you in the morning, okay?”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re on my way, and you’re not a problem, Feyre. I’ll take you.”

_ I wasn’t a problem. _

Huh.

She pushed into her room abruptly before she could hear me tell her quietly, “Thank you.”

I didn’t check my phone and fell straight to sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre deals with the aftermath of her breakdown between her, Elain, and Lucien, learning more about the pair of them and the fate of Lucien's mom than she ever imagined. The weekend brings an unexpected surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote a decent chunk today - election day blues, haha. Enjoy!

For having gone to bed late by my standards, I woke up far too early the following morning. I didn’t appreciate the universe being so cruel after the night I’d had, which took a few bleary moments of waking up to return to me.

I groaned, and rolled over, squeezing the pillows enveloping me tightly to my chest. My eyes could just stay shut. Work could sort itself. Just one more hour of sleep was all I needed, at least.

Unfortunately, it never came.

As light continued to steadily pour in through my window urging me to open my eyes, I realized it wasn’t only the waking up bit that was stopping me from living my day. I didn’t want to get out of bed period.

_ Just start with your phone _ .

In the dark of my room, I had simply crawled into bed and pulled the covers straight over my head, stopping only to kick my shoes off. There had been no concern for anything else. My hand flopped outward with little finesse and struggled along my bedside table until my fingers found the smooth, metal surface of my phone. Papers ruffled in a furious flutter when I tried to drag the phone from the stand.

My eyes popped open.

Sitting atop the table, and now also scattered partially along the floor, sat my gallery contracts. They were all there. The one for catering, the rentals, the lighting, DJ… I could tell from the thickness of the stacks that not one was missing.

Sorrow winced through me seeing the neat stack I’d destroyed.

Despite all the chaos and stress I’d caused her, Elain had still taken care to remember something important to me. And now, she wouldn’t look at me. Not even Nesta had ever been that distant to me.

I ignored the contracts and my sinking thoughts of Elain. One problem at a time for now.

My phone screen lit and the sense of dread I’d felt all night at checking my phone vanished. The notifications panel was surprisingly short, filled with little more than what I could have guessed would be waiting for me. Certainly not the onslaught I’d fretted over.

There were several missed calls from Elain stacked neatly in a pile together including a voicemail shortly after our brief text conversation. While no longer necessary, I couldn’t quite bring myself to erase whatever message she’d left and swiped past it for now.

Nothing had come in from mom. Not so much as a whisper and frankly, I wasn’t disappointed.

Finally, there were alerts for two texts from Lucien, the ones he’d mentioned me missing, and a handful from Rhys. I started with the former, remembering he no longer needed to pick me up. Ready to shoot him off a speedy note not to stop by that morning, I paused, and felt my jaw clench slightly when I read what he’d initially sent.

_ Lucien: Feyre - I realize that it’s been Christmas and that you wanted to attempt being better friends this year. Somewhere along the way, I didn’t do that for you. _

_ Lucien: Can we get coffee this week and try again? I’d like to talk to you about some things and see how your break went. _

I almost felt like I was reading a letter. A very short, texted letter. One that Lucien had spent a few minutes calculating on, if my suspicions were correct now that I knew Elain had been in touch.

Regardless of Elain’s involvement, Lucien wanted to be friends. I wasn’t certain before if he was genuinely interested when I’d cornered him in the cafe or during the handful of times we’d briefly hung out in the fall. Now…

Now I felt sad that I’d missed this text. It might have been enough to save me from what had happened with my mom, to think I’d had someone in my corner who could have gone with me. Distantly, I wondered what would have happened if Lucien had been with me, if I would have fallen apart or found enough support not to flip out on mom. Certainly if it had been Mor, I already knew in my heart I would have gotten through it better.

_ Feyre: Nesta wants to drive me to work this morning. Odd as it is, I know… _

_ Feyre: Listen, about last night, I really appreciate everything you did. I promise I’ll think about what you said. _

_ Feyre: And coffee would be lovely. Maybe after work? _

I was just wondering if maybe Lucien’s lack of instant reply meant I hadn’t delivered quite the right reply when the three little magic dots of incoming text came through.

_ Lucien: I have to go back to the hospital tonight. Mom’s not discharged yet. _

_ Lucien: Maybe, if you don’t mind, we could get Starbucks on the way? I’m sick of this hospital garbage they call coffee. _

I smiled, despite the shitty circumstances.

_ Feyre: Deal _ .

Finally, there was just Rhys. And it hadn’t been the slew of mischievous messages I’d been expecting.

_ Rhys: My beautiful, sweet, kind Feyre darling - how was your first day back? I know it’s three days to Saturday, but call me when you’re off. I’d love to hear how it went. _

And then briefly after work, just before I’d gotten to the house:

_ Rhys: Just checking in. ;) _

And finally, in the middle of full on breakdown mode:

_ Rhys: Everything alright, Feyre? Number? _

Number.

I had no idea what to tell him.

So I just... didn’t. And felt like I might throw up.

My bones turned brittle as I flicked off my messages app and set the phone aside. I’d never kept anything from Rhys before. We had always seen honesty as the cornerstone of our relationship. And yet here I was, keeping my first secret from him and it felt like a big one. A betrayal.

Guilt bit down on me, my new ever constant, faithful friend.

I just needed a day. A day to recover from what had been an awful night and then I could tell Rhys.

Trying to ignore the sinking weight in my chest, I took a deep breath and blew the air out hard as if trying to touch the ceiling. One task at a time, I told myself, starting with the hot shower I should have had before bed.

What normally only took me twenty-five minutes or so to do as part of my morning routine this time took me a little over an hour. Every step from brushing teeth to finding a clean pair of socks felt like a burden. At least I’d woken up earlier enough to manage it all without being late to work.

I was nearly out the door, having triple checked to make sure I had all of my contracts securely in my work bag, when I dropped my keys just in front of the door. Had they not fallen, I might have flown out too quickly to spot the whirl of yellow sitting on the small side table next to the door.

Daisies. Bright, golden yellow, and beaming their little heads at me in an elegant crystal vase wrapped with ribbon that knotted into a simple, sweet bow. I’d never seen them before and wondered if they had been there last night and I’d simply missed them on my way to bed.

Something in my gut told me they hadn’t been.

A small white envelope had been opened and placed on the stand next to the arrangement. It didn’t occur to me that I might be prying when my fingers inquisitively slipped the little card out from the hidden pocket.

_ Please know that even if you think you can’t talk to anyone else, you can always talk to me. _

That was it. No addressee. No name. Nothing.

Clearly, they weren’t meant for me. Rhys would never put something so serious and mundane as that in a greeting card without some kind of innuendo attached. I sort of doubted they’d come from Cassian. Nesta wasn’t really the flower type.

That just left Elain and I’d thought she’d broken up with Grayson a while back. Or maybe I had that wrong? I guessed I hadn’t really kept good track of my sisters, another fact to throw on my extending guilt train.

I tossed the card back down and left for work before I could linger too long on what it had said.

* * *

Work moved at a snail’s pace. Alis was pleased with all of the contracts and was even more pleased to make sure I was keeping up on her checklist of tasks afterwards.

Emails. Phone calls. And plenty of running around eight hours later, I felt like a ghost just walking from wall to wall, nodding my head and signing off wherever needed. My brain was absolutely drained by the end of the storm.

With five minutes left in my shift and Alis having left early for a conference appointment elsewhere in the city, I found myself wandering to the employee section of the artist workroom with no real purpose in mind other than to find somewhere quiet and to sit in that quiet as long as possible. I hadn’t been back the art room in months. No one was around as I stepped up to my station and noticed how the dust had gathered embarrassingly on my desk.

I swiped a finger through the grey debris collected over my wooden stool and plopped down, my bag hitting the solid ground below. If only it had a back to it, something to lean against so I could just relax. My back muscles screamed at me for something softer. And to think I used to sit here for hours and hours in stillness to paint.

Brushes sat in mason jars a foot or so to my right. Staring at them formed a hollow ache in my chest. When had I last painted? Or simply sketched something?

Too long. So long, I couldn’t remember.

The hollow grew, surrounding my heart in grief. This was who I used to be. This was who I still wanted to be and couldn’t find anymore. I loved painting.  _ Loved _ it with all my heart and soul. And I couldn’t do it just now, in ways that felt infinitely worse than when I’d tried so hard and still failed to accomplish my senior art project before the pieces finally fell into place right at the last second.

Would those pieces come back to me again? Or had I lost them for good?

It was a shame, really, that art had abandoned me. This job had given me so much. Even running the events coordination was something I could tell I would have enjoyed in the right frame of mind. It combined two things I loved best.

Which was odd, I realized. Since when did I fall in love with the chaos and stress of planning the Spring Solstice Art Summit? That was something I had always relegated to being a ‘Mor thing’ despite the rush I had sometimes knowing Alis was proud of my plans. Or the satisfaction I got every time I ticked off another email.

It was difficult at times. Immensely so. But it was also straightforward and had such clarity of vision: Dream. Plan. Do.

_ Dream _ .

That’s how Starfall had been created, with my small little dreams and memories that grew to mean so much.

And somewhere along the way, paint had meant to figure into the process too. That was supposed to be how it went when I agreed to stay on at the gallery, anyway.

A tiny muscle twitched in my hand and the aching hollow worsened.

My phone vibrated in my pocket suddenly, sounding voluminous in the quiet, empty workroom. At once, I forgot the twitch.

_ Lucien: Outside. _

It was for the best, I decided, as I gathered my bag up and left the room without looking back. Just one more thing I could figure out later when I’d finally decompressed.

Lucien was staring at his phone when I jumped in the car. He looked a little skeptical behind his shades as his thumb hesitated over the keys.

“Good news, I hope?” I said, setting my bag down.

“Huh?” Lucien glanced briefly at me and seemed to realize what I’d asked. “Oh,” he said, putting his phone down in the cup holder to sit for the ride. “Nothing yet. I’ll find out when we get to the hospital.”

“Is she doing better?”

Lucien nodded and left it at that.

“So… Starbucks?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

* * *

“Do you actually like Starbucks?”

“Yeah,” Lucien said. “Their coffee is kind of shit.”

“You mean it’s  _ the _ shit?”

“No, it literally tastes like shit.”

“Then… why did you get their strong brew, and all black?”

“Because anything yummier tasting would just put me to sleep. It’s the nasty stuff that keeps you up at night.”

“Hold on a second, you didn’t want the hospital coffee because you said it tasted like garbage.”

“No, I said I didn’t want the garbage the hospital  _ calls _ coffee. It’s really more of just water that’s been flavored to seem like coffee. This,” and he wiggled his Starbucks at me, “is just shitty, overrated coffee.”

“Oh well when you put it that way,” I chuckled and sipped on my hot chocolate. The barista working the counter had added cinnamon and vanilla to it promising me my life was about to be revolutionized. He wasn’t wrong.

The hospital elevator pinged in front of us and the doors opened so we could step inside. Lucien hit the small three button and right before the doors shut, I saw the same nurse who’d seen to my hand the previous night sitting behind the nurses station. The doors closed before I could catch her eye and I was kind of sad not to say hello.

“So,” Lucien said.

“So.”

“This is awkward.”

“It is?”

He leaned forward with a roll against the front of his feet, tucked neatly inside what I noticed was a very stylish set of shoes I wouldn’t have pegged for him. Lucien had always had good taste, but he was no slave to the fashion gods.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Um, okay weirdo. Why is it awkward? Unlike you, I’m enjoying my corporate funded Starbucks coffee.”

“It’s not coffee.”

“Besides the point.”

“Is it?”

“Lucien, just shut up and answer the question.”

“You do realize I can’t do that if I shut up.”

I groaned. And waited. The elevator stuttered to a halt and the doors slid open.

“You’re just usually the one dragging me into conversation, that’s all.”

Lucien stepped out ahead of me without offering any kind of explanation. I chased after him and nipped at his cream colored sweater.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said in my best Kavinsky. “What the hell is that supposed to mean - I’m the one  _ dragging _ you into conversations? You’re the one who texted me you wanted to try the friend thing again, remember?”

If my words had sounded shrill in any way, it didn’t phase him. That was the one good thing I had now in our relationship: Lucien could bite as much as he wanted, like he always did. I no longer cared so much about avoiding the sting when his teeth sunk in. I could even manage biting back.

“I only meant that you look like the air’s gone out of you.” He waited, and I couldn’t think of how I was supposed to reply to that. “I was sort of hoping… have you thought any more about what I said? You wrote me this morning that you would.”

Heat flooded my face. I sucked in a breath. “I - I can’t. Not yet.”

A sort of frown hit him that he didn’t bother hiding with his coffee like I would have done.

“Come on,” he said. “I need to check on my mom.”

“Right, okay.”

And just like that, the moment was over. I’d expected him to berate me a little more and tell me I was being an idiot for being so stubborn.

Apparently not. The new Lucien was different somehow.

And it wasn’t just in how he approached me with his serious life philosophies, or the tender way he worried after his family. As I watched him walk ahead of me, I slowed my pace so I could truly study him and found that my friend in front of me was someone I really didn’t understand as much as I liked to claim that I did.

“You’ve changed,” I said.

Lucien paused at the door to Room 321. “Now look who’s being vague,” he said with a trace of underlying hurt. I swallowed, wishing this didn’t have to be so difficult. All I wanted was one friend to hang out with and argue about who had the best shittiest coffee in town.

“I only mean, well,” and I waved at him. “Look at you.”

I’d only subtly noticed it up until this point. As Lucien turned and the hospital light struck his face and chest, fully exposed now that he’d tied his hair up, I could see the change in full force. Lucien was  _ hot _ .

Not hot in the way I found Rhys hot. Simply grown into himself. His chest had broadened and his arms were well defined, suggesting he’d been working out. He’d always been lean, but there was muscle to him now that said the wind would no longer knock him over with the slightest push.

And then of course the shoes and clothes had changed too. He was almost fashionable in a way he never had been before.

“I’m sorry, I’m not following,” Lucien said.

“It’s just, you look like you’re supposed to be a model or something.”

I rolled my eyes, as if the idea were laughable. And when Lucien snorted, I thought it was because he agreed. Not because I was right.

“Well yeah, why else would I bother with all of this extraneous attention to detail?”

When he didn’t shrug me off or toss me a wink or give me  _ something _ to let me know he was kidding, my jaw slackened.

“Shut. Up."

Lucien’s brow rose. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“You’re a  _ model?! _ ”

Now Lucien did try to use his coffee to hide his expression. I still managed to catch a glimpse of his smile before he could make it to the lid. “You don’t have to sound so shocked, you know.”

“Oh my gosh!”

I grabbed his arm with a wicked grin and shoved him into the chair outside the door. “Feyre, I really have to go check on my mom.”

My smile dimmed, and I let go. “Right, of course. I’m sorry. But you  _ have to tell me everything _ after, okay?” Lucien grinned and waved me away as he got up. “Good luck,” I wished him before he disappeared inside.

I turned away from the door only to freeze in my seeing Elain walk up to the nurse’s station twenty feet away, having apparently just exited the elevator. The nurse examined a clipboard on her desk and then spoke what I was certain were the words ‘ _ Room 321’ _ as she pointed in my direction.

My sister nodded her thanks and walked over with no apparent surprise to find me sitting there staring at her.

“Hi,” she said, and her shoulders fell in a great heave. Her fingers played nervously with the straps of her purse slung across her body.

“H-hi,” I said. “Um, did you follow me here?”

Elain smiled faintly. “Can I sit?”

I wasn’t going to say no, so I scooted in my seat as if I could make room for her and Elain sat down next to me.

“I’d like to… apologize, Feyre. If that’s okay.”

I gawked at her a little. “You do?”

“Mhm. You didn’t deserve to have me fall apart on you last night. You needed someone and I… I let you down.”

Her back curved into a slump that was unusual on typically polite, upright Elain. She looked genuinely disappointed in herself.

I was about to ask her if she was thinking clearly, if she really thought she owed me an apology, if she realized that I was the one who had failed  _ her _ , when she cut back in.

“It’s just… ever since Colorado, I feel like I’ve realized what a bad person I’ve been to you.”

“What does this have to do with Colorado?”

She bit her lip, a tick we had in common I noticed, and choked up some as though she’d really rather not have to say any of this. She did anyway.

“When we went on that drive and then later at the resort, and I saw how you and Mor were together, always giggling and whispering and running off in sync, no secrets or weirdness, I was jealous.”

“What?” I set my hot chocolate down on the floor, alongside my disbelief that I was even hearing her correctly, and gaped. “You were jealous of me and Mor? But she’s my best friend. Of course we’re gonna be close.”

Elain’s brow creased with embarrassment. “I know, I know, but that’s just it. She’s your best friend and I’m your  _ sister _ . You and me, kid, we should be thicker than that.” She held up her index and middle finger, wrapped together like a promise to illustrate her point. “You didn’t even know about the ‘sister swear’ thing.”

“Elain…”

That was all I said and we both sort of sunk into ourselves for a moment. I didn’t usually have to try so hard with Elain. Lately it had been Nesta of all people I’d been more connected to… sort of.

“Look,” she said, straightening herself up into more of her usual form. “I just want you to know that no matter how things are or seem, I love you and I will support you no matter what happens. If it helps… I’d only known about mom’s plan for the house for a day. I was hoping you’d come home that night for dinner so I could warn you, honest I swear.”

My heart shriveled inward on itself hearing the reminder about mom and the fiasco with the for sale sign. And then… I looked at Elain in all her earnestness, the worry furiously written in her eyes, and I held out my pinky.

“Sister swear?”

Elain smiled dimly and took my pinky finger in hers. “Sister swear.”

A lock clicked open behind me and we both swiveled at the same moment to see Lucien step out, his face beat red. “Hey,” I said, and we both stood. “What happened? Is she going to be okay?”

“They got the test results back just before we got here,” he said, stiff as a board. “My parents are going to go over their decision with the doctor in a few minutes.”

“What did they say?” Elain asked.

Lucien stared at her, and only her, as if she’d been with him inside that room the entire time.

“It’s spread to one of her lymph nodes - just the one. She’s gonna have the surgery after all.”

“Oh Lucien,” Elain said, and flung her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry.” The words fell soft and whispered, calling his arms up to her waist where they settled around her, holding on tight.

For once, the words ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t sound so contrived to my ears. Nor to Luciens, judging by the look of him.

Elain pulled back just as Lucien murmured his thanks. When she let go, a strange new tension lingered between them that had me leaning back like I was an intruder on a private moment. Neither of them seemed to know if the hug had been entirely appropriate or not.

“I wanted to stop by to chat with Feyre for a second,” Elain said. “I knew she was coming with you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Lucien said.

“And I wanted to thank you. For the flowers.”

_ Lucien sent Elain the flowers?? _

“Really?” His cheeks turned redder than they already were due to something entirely different from the emotion of his mom’s test results.

_ Holy shit he sent my sister flowers!! _

I bit back a smirk I knew would irritate the hell out of him.

Elain folded her hands in front of her, her body swaying with a slight rocking motion that made her skirt twill about her skinny legs in a delicate way. “They were really nice to wake up to this morning. Daisies are my favorite.”

“I know. Feyre told me once.”

“Oh! Well.” She glanced at me I watched her try to swallow the crimson threatening to engulf her entire face to match Lucien’s. Too late. “I need to get back to the apartment and do some grading tonight. Do you want to come with me?”

“Sure,” I said, letting the moment linger on between us all and enjoying how flustered they both seemed. “I’ll just meet you at the elevator.”

Elain’s eyes went wide as I backed away. “Oh no, I’m ready now-”

“Take your time, sis. Lucien, I’ll see you later?”

“Sure,” he said.

Whatever else happened between them was brief. Elain chided me the entire way to the car and wouldn’t respond when I told her she should ask him out.

Despite my teasing, she held my hand on the drive home. We didn’t speak, really. And it felt later than it was by the time we got back to the apartment. My awareness of how tired I was slowly crept back in.

“Hey,” Elain said when I didn’t automatically open my car door with her after she’d parked in our space. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

“You sure?”

Never.

I still nodded slowly. “Mhm.”

“Want me to cook dinner?” she asked as we made it inside. Nesta was sitting on the couch typing away on her laptop, two separate books in Russian out on either side of her splayed open to various pages filled with annotation.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

“It’s 8:00,” Nesta said, looking up.

“I know, but I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

They looked at me blankly, waiting for me to say I was joking.

I didn’t know why I was turning them down after they’d been so nice to me today. Dinner did sound good. My bed simply sounded better. In my room, there wouldn’t be any noise to deal with.

“Thanks for the rides today. I appreciate it. Goodnight.”

I shut the door behind me and felt my insides turn to goo, completely and utterly exhausted in every sense of the word. I set my alarm for the morning. One more day of work and I’d have two days off to sit unbothered by anything. Pretending that I wasn’t forgetting to text Rhys back and let him know I was okay, I set my phone aside, kicked off the lights, and crawled into bed.

Tomorrow. I would text him first thing tomorrow.

Tomorrow came and went.

Saturday morning after another long, stretched out day of work, Rhys apparently decided enough was enough. I rolled over in my bed and felt warmth engulf me. My body stiffened in awareness and shock.

I wasn’t alone.

And whoever was with me had taken it upon themselves to sink into bed right next to me and hold me close.

Within the next breath, I inhaled the scent of citrus and jasmine off the newcomer’s skin and immediately relaxed. He wouldn’t be holding me so tenderly if he was mad. At least, I hoped not.

“What are you doing here?” I mumbled.

A low chuckle. And a kiss to the mess of hair above my brow.

“Good morning to you too, Feyre darling.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre has to finally confront her biggest mental health problems when Rhys comes for a surprise visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise - this is the LAST super heavy chapter I'll post in this series. Everything after this chapter will get much brighter and more upbeat, fluffy. I swear!! Next two chapters after are almost done and coming soon!

“Is this a dream?”

“It better not be, or else I spent a hell of a lot of money flying out here for nothing.”

I hummed soft and low, the sound of sheer contentment suspended in a moment of time, removed from the rest of the world.

Gently, a light pressure grazed my hips and slid delicately beneath my sleeping top until it came to a soothing rest at the small of my back. Not to tease or torment. Simply to be.

The length of my own arm stretched luxuriously across smooth, hard planes of muscle hidden beneath the softest cotton fabric, stopping only once I’d reached the opposite side. With our legs seeking and finding and finally, entwining their way into each other, we were complete.

I opened my eyes to see Rhys’s bleary exhaustion keeping watch over me.

“How long have you been here?”

“Just a few minutes,” he said. “You can go back to sleep if you want. I didn’t mean to wake you up. It’s still early.”

The ensuing yawn suggested his proposal was equally for his benefit as much as mine. He had to have flown all night.

My body stretched and curled, wiggling into Rhys. He squeezed me snug against him in welcome reception. Going back to sleep could have been nice. If I’d really been dreaming after all, it’s the route I absolutely would have taken, to freeze the blissful moment forever. Not knowing how long I had before Rhys would disappear to fly back home complicated my answer in favor of savoring every second I had.

“Sorry, I’m not the least bit tired.”

“Liar,” he said, booping rather than flicking me on the nose.

“While I can’t say I’m disappointed, I can’t believe you flew all night. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Rhys’s face turned downward into a slight frown that had my stomach quickly twisting into knots. “I knew you would have told me not to come.”

“That’s not true. You know I always want you to  _ come _ .” I reached to stroke his face and met resistance as Rhys snatched my hand away and held it firmly to his chest. I tensed, waiting. “What is it?”

“You didn’t text me back.”

“You flew all the way out here to scold me because I didn’t text you back? That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

“Feyre, I flew all the way out here because I knew you were lying to me and that’s not okay.”

Now, I was the one to withdraw my own hand. And part of myself too.

So he was angry with me after all. And even with my annoyance quickly simmering just below my skin, wanting to come up with a million excuses for why I’d held back, I couldn’t really fault him. I had lied. Facing that mistake now erased so much of the guilt I’d been bottling up and replaced it with an intense need to flee.

I swallowed, my mouth feeling dry. “How do you know I was lying to you?”

Rhys sat up, digging around in his pocket. I took the opportunity to sink further below the covers amidst the shuffle and hide myself as much as possible. I’d never wanted to hide from Rhys before.

Of all the things he could have been looking for, I wasn’t expecting it to be his cell phone that he handed me, the screen already unlocked and open to a text message conversation. Nesta’s name was at the very top. I hadn’t known they’d ever exchanged numbers. She had sent only one single word.

_ Nesta: Zero. _

My heart twisted in on itself and my head went slightly dizzy. She really had figured it out. All of it.

And she’d told Rhys. Because she’d seen me and she’d known the truth. I could hide it from Rhys and anyone else who wasn’t looking. Not Nesta. Careful, clever, ruthless Nesta.

“I called my dad as soon as I got the message.”

I felt a gasp build in my chest and choked it down. “What did you tell him?” Somewhere along the way, tears had gathered behind my eyes in a blind fury. I clawed at my skin desperate to be rid of them.

“Nothing you wouldn’t want me to say, but enough for him to understand.”

He tried to hold me again, to steady me from shaking as more tears spilled, but I held myself back from him, turning away from his chest. His fingers fell limply to trail down my back.

“Feyre… talk to me. Please.”

“I don’t think I can. Not about this.”

When next he spoke, his voice sounded like it had been carved out of the empty dregs of the wind leftover from a storm. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“Can’t.”

“You have to say  _ something _ . We have to figure this out. You can’t stay stuck at zero for the rest of your life.”

“Watch me.”

The words - just those two jagged little words wrapped in knives and ropes - cut their way out of me with bitterness. Rhys’s touch fell away from my back giving me some space to collect myself from the fury building and building inside my chest. I was starting to get dizzy.

Why did I feel so betrayed? And I couldn’t figure out who I was more mad at - him or Nesta. Both of them had ripped open this crying, wounded thing inside of me that I never wanted either of them to see. I could hardly stand to look at it myself.

Anxiety climbed the rungs of my spine, threatening to choke me.

_ Not again, not again, not again, not again. _

_ Outside. Running. Running. Falling. Dying. _

_ In the dark. _

_ Alone. _

“No,” My eyes clamped shut when I heard his voice crack behind that small, pathetic word. “I’m not going to watch you do this to yourself. You’re empty, fine. You’re out of options, fine. You miss your dad, that’s fine too. But this is more than that now. You’re drowning and I’m not gonna watch you let the water take you all the way down.”

I measured my breaths carefully, coming shorter and shorter and more rapidly. Sweat soaked into my shirt, the sheets.

“Please,” Rhys moaned. “I’m  _ begging _ you. Tell me how to help you.”

My fingers fell into the pillow against my head and gripped the fabric tight, tight, tighter. I shook my head no, my eyes bleeding salt and bile. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this.

I.

Could not.

Do this.

“Then tell me why. Give me one good reason why I should believe that you’re okay. One reason why Nesta was wrong to send me that text.” His words choked up, harder, with some of the anger I’d thrown at him, matching my test. “Tell me and I’ll go back to the airport right now, fly home and we can forget everything.”

My body rolled over in a rush of desperation and fear. Trembling, I clawed into his chest and held on with my life at stake.

“No, no, no - you  _ can’t _ .” I was sobbing - the ugly kind. Inside and out. It was getting harder and harder to keep track of my emotions as the anger and despair and grief congealed into one heaping mess.

Rhys grabbed me roughly and held me straight. “Then  _ tell me how to help you. _ ”

“I don’t know how!”

“Yes, you do. Start with what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong!”

“You do! Or you wouldn’t have lied to me! You wouldn’t have had to have your sister, who practically  _ hates _ me, to get my sorry ass all the way out here on a red-eye in the middle of mid-terms to come figure out what’s going on with you.”

We were shouting full level now, him out of frustration and me out of pure, unfettered fear.

“So stop lying to me or this-” his lips quivered, “this is  _ over _ .” I heaved and thrashed deep in my chest. Rhys’s voice lowered. “You can’t make me watch you waste away, you know that. I love you too much to let it happen.”

“I’m too scared to tell you,” I sobbed. Rhys gripped my hands between us and leaned his head against me. “I want to tell you, I do, I swear. But I’m scared to say it out loud.”

“You can tell me anything. You are brave and you are strong. Just start at the beginning. I don’t want to lose you, Feyre - I  _ can’t _ .”

“I’m so - I’m so - I’m so, fuck. I’m terri-terrified.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m like my dad.”

“Your dad was a wonderful person, that’s nothing to be scared of.”

“But he died.”

“People do. Every day. My mom and sister were gone too soon like him too. What else?”

I shook my head. Nothing but pain radiated out of me.

“I can’t be like him.”

“Why?”

“Because he died.”

“Why?”

“Because he was miserable. And now I’m miserable.”

“Why?”

“Because what if I end up just like him? What if this feeling becomes too much and I die just like he did? If he couldn’t handle it, then how am I supposed to?”

Rhys cursed, near silent. “Feyre.” He looked me straight in the eye, serious at every angle. “Are you saying you want to die?”

My lips quivered as they parted seeking the answer. “I… I…”

“Feyre?”

“Sometimes.” He waited as the shock of saying it out loud caught up with me. I felt my body start to go completely. “Sometimes, yes, yes I want to die.”

I collapsed. Rhys enveloped me in his arms and caught every single piece even if he didn’t know how to put them all back. Together, we laid in the stillness of silence, his body solid and unyielding, mine crashing and turbulent.

When I finally found a way to pull myself away and look at him properly, his eyes were aching -  _ burning _ in their careful watch over me. And then his lips hooked in to mine. It was not the meeting of two people seeking heat and passion. It wasn’t even full of love and intimacy. It was simply compassion and understanding and that unconditional acceptance of my wrongs that I’d been craving for  _ years _ .

His lips lingered, seeming to soak inside of me and remove all of the torment. It was so quiet, I wondered if this was what the end was meant to feel like. Just a river of peace flowing between us that would carry me on.

“I… am so… proud of you.” His breath shook between each word.

Another harsh sob bit my lips. “There’s nothing to be proud of. I said I want… I want… I want... to d-die.”

“That’s an awfully hard thing to admit. And you’ve been circling it for the better part of our relationship. I’d be willing to guess even before I met you. That first night at Lucien’s party… you were beautiful and fierce and all the magnificent things I’ve come to adore. But you were sad too. That sorrow in your eyes haunted me all the way home that night just as much as everything else had excited me.”

“I’m so-sorry, Rhys-"

“Shh, shh.” He pressed my head back against his chest, cradling it within his hand. My arms slipped free to wrap once more tightly around his chest. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Feyre, it’s okay to feel sad.”

_ Breathe, breathe, breathe, just fucking breathe _ .

“To feel lonely and neglected and afraid. It’s even okay that you feel like you want to die.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but honey - oh Feyre,  _ my Feyre _ .” His thumb lovingly stroked over my cheek. “Just because you think you’re back at the bottom of that hole doesn’t mean we’re gonna leave you there to rot. I hope you’ll let me help you find the ladder to climb back up?”

I could picture it. The long dark tunnel I’d found myself trapped in once more. I’d told Rhys about that hole I used to imagine inside my head so long ago. This time, Rhys said there was a ladder somewhere. He couldn’t reach in and pluck me out. I’d have to decide to climb for myself. And until I did, he was gonna shout at me from the top to keep looking for it.

“You’re really not mad at me? You aren’t d-disappointed?”

“Never.”

“But you said you’d leave me-”

“I would never have truly left you, Feyre. I was angry that you were trying to hide from me, after everything we’ve promised each other.” He sighed, the hurt evident in his voice. “But I also understand that there are things going on inside your head that aren’t about anyone except you and that I might not always know how or why you’re processing things the way you are.”

For the space of ten breaths, I measured the rise and fall of my chest with his, repeating the words he’d said over and over again. And they hurt, more than I thought they ever would.

“This is really hard,” I said, tears renewing. “You’re saying all the right things and my brain still doesn’t understand why I’m still here. I don’t feel any better.”

“Then maybe we can find a way to help it understand, to help it feel better.”

“How?”

“Do you really and truly believe that you want to die? Actually want to stop being alive?”

He didn’t make me answer. There was enough room to just breathe and let the thoughts come.

The first thought was of dad. The second was of disappearing.

Then came the fear, followed by the dread.

I reached out and dared to pull the veil back, enough to see and feel beyond. What would happen if I left?

No more pain. No more loneliness.

A world of emptiness, devoid of color.

I inhaled, and thought again.

There was jasmine and there was citrus. Color and paint. Blonde hair and midnight shadows. Flowers and language, coffees and fire. I’d imagined they’d all become empty vessels for me. That if I pulled back the curtain hiding them, I’d discover they’d fled like mirages, gone forever.

Now, staring into the void, I realized that they were still there and I’d have to step through to find my way back to them.  _ I _ was the one who’d left. Who’d abandoned everything.  And it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know how or why I’d done it. I only knew that I could stay stuck in the black and white always yearning for a death that was already killing me day by day. Or I could cross over somehow and figure out how to push through the pain to get back to what I loved.

The next thought was yearning. The one after, need.

And the final thought, hope.

I slowly pulled my gaze up to Rhys, who pushed my hair back gingerly from my face. His fingertips trailed over my cheeks counting the freckles. I knew he’d kiss them every one if he could.

Finally, his brow lifted. A silent question.

“No. I don’t want to die. Not really.”

His lips pulled at a smile, still quivering. And his voice was raw as he leaned to whisper, all that he could manage, “Good, I’m glad.”

Rhys helped me find the breaths, the steps, the muscles to sit up, to get out of bed, to walk out the door. Elain, I imagined, understood what was happening this morning, and was nowhere to be found as requested. I wanted Nesta to be the one to do it. She wouldn’t have to worry about bending and breaking on me when I threw the weight of my world on her shoulders.

Nesta looked up from her book as Rhys walked me into the living room, a mug of tea hovering before her. His coloring was very pale. Had she been listening?

Rhys squeezed my hand in solidarity. Feeling both the bravest and weakest I’d ever felt, I stepped forward and faced my sister.

“I think I need to see a doctor.”

Nesta set down her tea and her book, her skin looking pale and worn out. “I’ll drive you. Let’s go.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve weeks since her breakdown, Feyre goes through her first round of medication, helps Elain navigate early dates with Lucien, and receives a stunning offer from Nesta.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Maybe?”

“Just go out on the patio.”

My hands clenched into two tight fists.

“What is it?”

“It’s just… what if someone, you know, overhears.”

Nesta shrugged. “I’ll just be in my room for the next half hour or so. It’s your call.”

I don’t think she noticed her own pun.

My sister’s door closed softly, for a change, and left me alone waiting for the dull buzzing of my cell that I’d been anticipating all week. My appointment wasn’t for another ten minutes. Already I had the sense that something was off.

Five minutes ticked idly past. I didn’t dare turn the tv on lest I get distracted. When I layed down on the couch, I popped straight back up afraid I’d fall asleep and miss the call altogether.

It was silly really, to be so nervous. My new primary care doctor had turned out to be super nice and was very sincere when I told her what all I’d been going through. Or at least what I’d been able to get out at the time. Now that I was on meds and had been for twelve weeks, there was so much more I felt capable of telling her, a difference I was still shocked by nearly every day.

When it was five minutes past, I started to pace to take the edge off. At ten past, I debated asking Nesta how long was long enough to be considered a no-show. Fifteen minutes late, my fist was raised to her door.

_ Buzzzzzzzz _ .

Of course.

Scrambling back into the living room, I hit accept on the call. “Hello?”

“Hi! Is this Feyre? This is Dr. Dennard from Kaiser Medical.”

“Hi, yeah it’s me. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks! And I’m so sorry for the late call. Phone appointments are scheduled at all times during the day no matter what shifts we’re on and unfortunately we’ve run rather behind this afternoon. I hope this doesn’t inconvenience your evening.”

The air rushed out of me in great relieving tides.

“Not at all. This is fine. I sort of, um, I kind of cleared my entire schedule, so we’re good.”

Dr. Dennard chuckled lightly. “Tell me how it’s been adjusting to the meds.”

“Honestly? Like a dream.”

And it had been. I’d never known it was possible to feel this good. Had I  _ ever _ at any point in time even before my brain had tanked?

I took a good chunk out of my free fifteen allotted minutes to fill Dr. Dennard in on all of the changes I’d experienced since starting Fluoxetine, a common SSRI for enhancing serotonin uptake in the brain (basically, a happy pill), nearly three months ago. My dosage had started out really small and the first couple of weeks had felt the same as ever. Once I started titrating up, it was like the world had flipped upside down. One day, a storm raged above me endlessly, and the next… it was gone. Or at least off in the distance raining somewhere else.

Mornings were full of increasing calm instead of instant dread and panic. Work passed in a normal, non-anxious manner. And it no longer freaked me out to come home to an empty apartment or not get an instant reply back to a text, not that this was really a problem anymore.

Since Nesta had taken me in, I was never alone. Not ever.

Elain drove me to work in the morning. Nesta picked me up at night. Every Wednesday and Friday was spent with Lucien either at his house or the hospital, whichever was more convenient for him to be near his mom. He’d helped me get through the slog of those first two weeks adjusting to the meds, helping me stay on track with the Spring Solstice (which had been a huge hit, by the way) while I helped him figure out how to ask Elain out since she apparently was too damn afraid to. (They’d gone out twice, so far. Tonight was Date No. 3)

And so far, Rhys had flown home once a month to visit for a weekend each time. As soon as I was more stable, and I was getting there more and more every day, we’d trade off on who flew where. I had plenty saved up from work, no sense letting it rot in my account. Mor and I were working on planning out some trips in the fall too after she went back to school. I never did see Seattle like we’d always wanted.

Dr. Dennard didn’t interrupt me as I explained everything, save for a few  _ Excellent! _ ’s and  _ Mhms _ here and there. “I’m really pleased, Feyre. It sounds like you’ve taken to the medication brilliantly, which is great for a first attempt.”

While I knew my brain’s chemical reaction to a drug specifically designed to do a particular function was nothing to attribute to my own will, I couldn’t help but feel a little smug to hear her say that.

“Have you had any side effects? Anything at all? Fluoxetine doesn’t generally have any major hangups the way some of the other brands do, but we can certainly assess and make adjustments if you’re experiencing any problems.”

“No, no side effects. Not exactly.”

“Go on.”

Dr. Dennard didn’t miss a trick.

“I just… is this normal? To see such instant results? I feel fine. More than fine, honestly. Not that I can say I’m 100% rainbows and sunshine again or anything. But everyone always talks about the endless changing of doses with depression meds. I’m sort of worried it’s all…”

“Too good to be true?”

I sighed, hoping she’d hear me on the other end. “Yeah, exactly.”

“You’re absolutely right that it can be tricky to figure out. Everyone is different and therefore it’s normal that people will take to different drugs in different ways. I think that for right now, since you’re just starting out, there’s no need to be concerned if things are going according to plan. We may have hit the gold mine in terms of prescription where you’re concerned. Or you might find in time that you got a bit of a lucky placebo effect that helped you get started. If that’s the case, we adjust until we get you right again. But for now, I think you’re doing great.”

“Okay.”

“And Feyre, remember. There’s nothing wrong with changing the medication if you need to. There’s also nothing wrong with stopping it if one day you don’t need it.” My heart plunged at the thought. I couldn’t imagine ever being off something that helped me feel this normal (or neurotypical, as Dr. Cerridwen preferred to call it, since normal was always a relative term) ever again.

“Thank you. You’ve been a life saver… Literally.”

“I’m honored to hear it, Feyre. But give yourself the credit. You’re the one doing the work.”

With two minutes left, she confirmed that I’d gone back to seeing Dr. Cerridwen and that I was using the meditation apps she’d suggested, both of which I was finally doing. And then with cheery well wishes, she patched me through to the appointment center where I rescheduled a new phone appointment for late summer when my first prescription would be due up.

I hung up the phone, ran into Nesta’s room, and fell on the bed in a state of total bliss. She didn’t even yell at me for messing up her pillows.

* * *

_ DRAFT _

_ From:  _ [ _ feyrearcheron@gmail.com _ ](mailto:feyrearcheron@gmail.com)

_ To: Mom _

_ Subject: Hey _

_ Hi Mom, _

_ It’s me. Which you probably already guessed since it’s my email address...  _

_ DRAFT _

_ From:  _ [ _ feyrearcheron@gmail.com _ ](mailto:feyrearcheron@gmail.com)

_ To: Mom _

_ Subject: Hey _

_ Hey! _

_ So I know it’s been a long time since we last talked. I just wanted to see how things were going and maybe catch you up a bit, assuming you aren’t still super mad at me? _

_ DRAFT _

_ From:  _ [ _ feyrearcheron@gmail.com _ ](mailto:feyrearcheron@gmail.com)

_ To: Mom _

_ Subject: Hey _

_ Mom, _

_ I don’t know what Nesta and Elain have told you, if anything, but I’m fine, I swear. Everything is fine. _

_ DRAFT _

_ From:  _ [ _ feyrearcheron@gmail.com _ ](mailto:feyrearcheron@gmail.com)

_ To: Mom _

_ Subject: Hey _

_ Dear Mom, _

_ I just don’t know how to talk to you anymore. _

* * *

Nesta hadn’t looked up from her laptop once in the hour since I’d plopped down on her bed, somewhat giddy from my successful phone call with the doctor. Funny how taking care of what is in reality the most basic of adult responsibilities can make a person feel like they’ve won the lottery.

Despite her intense concentration on the screen, my sister didn’t seem too concerned with much typing. Normally she would grade essays printed out, something about marking the page by hand that really ticked all the boxes for her. And her thesis defense had been ages ago, so I really had no idea what she was doing.

My own fingers ghosted idly over the keys of my phone trying to figure out how emails worked between two people in a silent stalemate agreement. Now that I wasn’t so reliant on facts and figures to get me through catering and rental table discussions, trying to compose something personal seemed a lot harder.

“What is it?”

Nesta still hadn’t looked up.

“What’s what?”

“You keep clearing your throat. Please don’t tell me you’re sick, Feyre. I’m going to kick you out of my bed and make you wash the sheets if you’re sick.”

I scowled at her, even though she continued to keep steady focus on the screen. “You realize that would defeat the purpose, right? Making a sick person wash the sick out of your sheets?”

“Out!”

“Put that away!” I shoved aside her finger pointing menacingly at the door and the desired exit route. “I’m not sick, geez. I didn’t even mean to clear my throat.”

“Then why do you want my attention?”

“Who says I want-”

Nesta cut me off with a look. “Just tell me.”

It was becoming less and less of a fight each time Nesta and I talked now. So much of the fighting had become actual genuine banter with none of the old bite attached to it. Though I didn’t doubt she really would have turned me out if I’d been sick.

I let my phone disappear into the comforter below us, face down so as not to think about what I’d left hanging on the screen waiting for me to wrap up. “It’s just… I don’t know what to tell mom.”

“About what?”

“About… everything. How do I tell her what happened with the doctor?”

Nesta shrugged, her face sour. “How about, ‘ _ Hey Mom, Just thought you should know I’ve started depression meds. Hope you’re doing well.’ _ Or some bullshit like that.”

“What - no!”

“Why not?”

Did she honestly not see it? “I can’t just tell her I’ve got depression.”

“Why not?”

“Well. Because I just can’t.”

Perhaps that was part of the problem as to why I couldn’t get the words down on paper. Or, email, technically speaking.

“That makes absolutely no sense. Do you not want to tell her? You don’t have to, you know.” When I gave her a startled look, she merely scoffed. “Oh come on, it’s none of her business frankly. You haven’t spoken in nearly three months. You’re nineteen now, Fey. You don’t have to report to anyone.”

“Except you?”

“Now you’re getting it.”

I shook my head, a bewildered smile slipping past my guard. It was getting easier to do that with Nesta now that she actually made  _ jokes _ in my presence. Something about our newly shared trauma had shifted the dynamic between us. Rhys guessed that seeing just how down and out I’d been, truly lost and hopeless, had been like flicking a switch inside Nesta’s head that made her step up in a whole new way. I wasn’t entirely sure at first, wondering if maybe Cassian had had something to do with it. No matter what the reason, I could no longer imagine a time in my life where Nesta and I had been something akin to enemies.

The idea of not telling mom… it sounded crazy as soon as Nesta suggested it. Moms were always the people you were supposed to tell everything to. That was what mom culture dictated. All the movies and books explicitly said so. Moms and daughters supposedly had special bonds that lasted the test of time even when they were fraught with stupid teenager melodrama and fights.

I’d never really seen my relationship with mom like that. I’d spent most of my life so far dreaming about it instead, looking at Nesta and Elain who had always seemed so grown up as they pranced about with mom looking fashionable and untouchable.

_ One day, that’s gonna be me. _ That’s what I used to think.

The idea was so alluring and easy to get swept up in, that by the time my head recognized I’d already known the sensation, it was too late. My heart dropped in to my stomach and my fingers lost the will to give another attempt at mom’s email. I’d had that connection once - with dad. And now I would never have it again.

These little moments kept slipping into my life between doses and meditation sessions. And they killed me nearly every time.

“HELP ME!”

Elain burst suddenly into the room carrying five different dresses and four pairs of shoes, all in varying styles of design and formality.

“Holy fucking hell, Elain!” Nesta had literally jumped a mile high.

“Don’t you fucking hell me, I  _ need _ your help! Both of you!” In one great heapping toss that was far too careless for Elain’s usual tactics, she threw the mound of clothes on the bed. “What am I supposed to wear tonight?!”

“Um, didn’t we go through this a month ago already, when you two had your first date?” Elain glared, another uncharacteristic move. “It’s just… you’ve been out a couple of times already. What’s the big deal, he clearly likes how you look.”

Elain blushed and tried to not to stammer as she started hastily holding up options, as though that would disprove how ridiculous this was. “He’s taking me to Griffith for the light show. Griffith Park has got both indoor  _ and _ outdoor exhibits. What if we’re outside most of the night with the show? It’s freezing right now-”

“70 degrees is  _ not _ freezing,” Nesta noted.

“Okay not all of us got to do a year abroad in the middle of Siberia, so shut up and help me! If we’re outside, I might freeze my ass off. But if we get stuck inside, that planetarium gets fucking stuffy as shit and I don’t want armpit sweat to show through my cardigan.”

Something about Elain swearing made me gasp with laughter. I received only a dirty look in return. She wasn’t usually such a sailor when she spoke, nor this easily flummoxed. Lucien really had her on the ropes way more than I’d picked up on.

_ Him _ , on the other hand, I knew was an entirely different matter. He tried day in and day out to keep composure with his even toned speaking and minimal gesturing. But inside, I knew the truth. Elain had him completely wrapped around her littlest finger.

“You’re better at this… stuff,” I said to Nesta, waving at all the options before us.

Nesta sighed and sat her laptop aside. I caught a glimpse of the screen and saw something about Thailand’s picturesque scenery before she’d leaned forward and I lost the view.

“What about this one?” Nesta held up a knee-length dress in a bright, bold blue color with nothing more than simple stitching around the seams to adorn it. “The sleeves are long, so you’ll be able to keep warm outside. Just throw some beige tights on and you can still look cute and flirty with the shorter length.”

Elain’s shoulders let go of all the tension in an instant as she took the dress. “Thank you! This will be perfect.”

“If you wear your hair up,” I offered, “I think it would look really nice. Then you could toss a scarf on for extra warmth without it being in the way?”

“Oh no, that’s okay. Lucien really likes it when I curl my hair down because-” she blushed again and whisked her shoes up off the floor. “What about the shoes?! Do any of these even go with this dress?  _ Oh my fucking gosh. _ ”

Once more, I burst out laughing.

“Not helping, Feyre! Not helping at all!”

Nesta groaned and dug out her selection. After an intense round of voting and elimination, Elain took all of her clothes and designated picks, finished getting ready, and was running for the door with the giddiest of smiles on her face when Lucien rang.

“It’s good to see her so happy - both of them,” I said after they’d left and Nesta had scolded me for spying through the front room window blinds like a creeper. I couldn’t help it. I liked Elain when she was with someone, it made her shine so bright. And everytime Lucien showed up looking less like the plague had hit him now that his mom was recovering from surgery (successfully), I worried a little less.

They were both good-hearted people missing something in their lives to bring them the happiness they deserved. If they did that for each other, then I couldn’t be more pleased.

“Soooooooo.”

“Sooooooo,” Nesta echoed, with a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

“Thailand? Are you switching your field of study or something to another part of Asia?”

To my surprise, Nesta sank into herself rather than offer a snarky retort. “No, I’m debating taking a vacation next year. An extended one.”

“What about the teaching gig? Will they let you do that online?”

“I didn’t get the job.”

I sat up and frowned. She hadn’t said a word about not getting the position. “What? When?”

“They told me Monday.” She slammed her laptop closed and set aside once more. “Another adjunct professor from back east with a few years more experience than me interviewed last minute and got the spot.” She shrugged and for once looked more than a little unsettled, and nothing ever unsettled Nesta. “So I can either find a new position or take a break. So far, I’m leaning toward the latter.”

“Holy crow.”

“What?”

“It’s just… you never take breaks. Like,  _ ever _ .”

Nesta snorted a short, but still clearly audible, chuckle. “I am a human being, you know, contrary to popular belief. I can take a break here and there. Fuck all knows I deserve one. You could come, if you want.”

Now I really flew out of my seat.  _ “Excuse me?” _

A small testing smile flickered in front of me. There was no way in hell I’d heard her correctly.

“Well why not? You don’t exactly spend your money on much. I know you’ve got it saved in the bank. And splitting rent all this time with Elain has saved me a ton. I’m thinking of taking some time off abroad-”

“Abroad? In Thailand?”

“Thailand. Cambodia. Maybe Korea.” She shrugged. “Anywhere really, but Southeast Asia for sure to start. It would be a great year-”

“A year?! Holy shit, Nesta I can’t just leave for a year.”

Rolling over casually in her bed like it was some kind of sleepover, she tucked into the pillows and faced me. I leaned back to match her, as though it was somehow going to make this conversation more real and serious. Apparently, we were really gonna talk about this.

“It doesn’t have to be so long. You could come and go as you pleased. Would you be interested?”

Interested? That was one way of putting it. A world tour? That sounded absolutely incredible, something a person only dreamed of doing. It was just that… me and Nesta? “Well, I don’t know. Would  _ you _ really want me there?”

My sister frowned, almost angrily. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t. I just figured that you’ve had a tough year and the museum gig - while  _ great _ \- is just a job. You could probably get Alis to hire you back after or find something better. This could be good for you. I think you’ve earned it. And I’m not going to be teaching anyway, so why not?”

A horrible thought struck me deep. I hadn’t felt guilt’s icy knife like this in quite some time. “Wait… you didn’t  _ not _ get the professor job because of me, did you?” Nesta quirked a brow as my insides turned to mush. Hot shame flooded my cheeks. “You were really busy when you had your interview and defense, you know, because you were taking care of me so much.”

My gaze drifted south, and Nesta was there to quickly draw me back up to her, fingers under my chin with some snap to their hold. “Hey, what did I tell you? It’s not your fault. So stop apologizing to me for everything.”

“I’m not apologizing-”

“No, but you were going to. I can hear it in the way you still talk about things, talk about yourself. Even if I had lost that job because I was taking care of you, it would have been worth it.” She let go of my chin, tucking her hand underneath her pillow. I didn’t have time to process the fierceness of her declaration. “So what do you think? Do you want to go on a trip with me this fall?”

Something that felt like what I could only imagine was a champagne cork flying out of the bottle neck and letting the bubbles inside gush up to fly out rose up inside of me. “Maybe? I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it.”

Nesta nodded, seeming to feel it was a fair call, and turned over on her back, eyes gently closing. “Just let me know,” she said.

And the room fell silent.

It was late -  _ very _ late - when I heard a door tap closed somewhere in the apartment. The bedroom door handle jiggled and followed by Elain creeping in. “Nesta?” she murmured.

“‘Sleep.” My words were a barely there mumble.

“Feyre? You’re still in here?”

We were whispering, trying not to wake Nesta. Elain quietly closed the door behind her and crept over, removing her wedge shoes as she went.

“Mhm,” I muttered dreamily. “What time is it?”

“Uh, don’t worry about it. Just go back to sleep. And scoot over first!”

I moved closer toward the center of the bed - thank goodness Nesta insisted on a king size - and caught a glimpse of strained yellow light just barely creeping in through the window. Holy shit, it was practically morning already. “Wait, did you stay out all night?”

“Shh!!” Elain shushed me repeatedly, sprang under the sheets still in her blue dress sans tights, and tried to roll over the opposite way.

I curled up against her back and whispered at her ear. “You have a good night with Lucien, eh?”

“Go to sleep, Feyre.”

And whether she noticed it or not, Elain tried to smooth down her hair which had somehow magically lost  _ all _ of its curl and became very unruly since she’d left the night before.

I giggled and closed my eyes once more and found that there nestled between my sisters, I was too awake to bother going back to sleep. For once, real life felt infinitely more interesting than my dreams.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre and Rhys have a sexy pre-summer reunion, Alis asks Feyre an unusual question that makes her second guess the trip with Nesta, and Elain makes a surprise announcement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *NSFW* Sexy times ahead! Hadn't honestly planned to include explicit content in this fic, but here we are.

There was something awful about LAX airport. Whoever had designed it was the spawn of Satan with a vendetta against us all.

Nearly forty-five minutes after reaching the entrance signs for the terminal, I had finally made it to the arrivals parking lot outside the American Airlines baggage claim. No way was I circling in this madness for the next hour while I waited for Rhys’s flight to land.

Now that we’d reached late May, this was the last of his weekend trips home to see me before he came back permanently for ten weeks of glorious summer vacation. His dad had originally pushed him to consider an internship in the city back in New York. Somehow, Rhys had managed to convince him that it was worth it to take the first summer off easy. He could push hard next year when he had a firmer idea of where he was going - hopefully international law.

It was taking a while for his dad to come around to the idea that Rhys wouldn’t be working for his company one day. Rhys’s decision to stick with law in some form had helped, as had Mor’s sudden interest in her school’s prestigious business economics post-grad program. I knew eventually it would all work out.

I locked up the car, grateful my sisters had let me borrow it (and that Nesta had been chill with me going out on my own - finally. She’d watched me like a hawk the last few months.) and headed into baggage claim. As soon as I stepped through the doors and located which claim number matched Rhys’s flight, the belts started moving. I danced up on the tips of my toes, already looking at the escalators coming down to see if I could spot him.

The longest minutes of my life passed before I saw his violet eyes lock with mine and I was running. Into those arms so strong and sure, leaning into that chest that welcomed me in, and wrapping around the neck that caressed against my own and assured me with its delicious citrusy scent that everything was going to be okay.

“My _love_ ,” Rhys whispered in my ear. And then he kissed me long and deep.

“Excuse me!” A frazzled looking couple pushed past up. Apparently, we were blocking the main exit of the escalator. I hardly cared.

“Sorry, not sorry,” Rhys said privately to me earning a giggle. “Come on, I checked some bags to get a jump on bringing back all my shit. Let’s find them and get out of this mad house.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“What, no bus?” Rhys asked, twenty minutes later as I hauled his luggage up to my car.

I fed him a cheeky, exuberant grin. “Nope! I drove here all by myself. I’m a big girl now, you see.”

Rhys chuckled and popped the trunk as I unlocked it. We loaded up the suitcases - two in total - and I was just about to close the lid up when Rhys spun me around and ducked me into an even deeper kiss than before. His hands went wild gripping my hips so hard that I couldn’t help but thread myself into his unruly waves of black hair, squeezing as I went. They’d grown a little long since I’d last seen him, curling slightly around the base of his ears.

Breathless, I tried to pull back and wound up plucking several more hasty kisses to his soft lips instead. “Welcome home?” I asked. Rhys beamed at me.

“I should say so,” he replied. “You look…” He didn’t finish. Only shook his head.

“What?” I asked, biting my lower lip lest I explode from the storm of butterflies fluttering about my stomach. He still brought it out in me every single time I saw him, all the nerves and excitement. I hoped it would always be like this.

“You are so _alive_ , and I absolutely love it.”

My lips twitched and my jaw started to go slightly sore from holding up my smile for so long. No way was I going to stop. Rhys was absolutely right. I _did_ feel alive. And I was so grateful to feel that damn good again.

Slowly, our mouths came back together, this time much more slowly and tender than before. And when Rhys cradled me around my middle, it was with such surety, such promise, that I buried myself deeper and deeper into him.

No more secrets stood between us. No more lies. That night I’d told him the truth, that would be the only time it ever happened. I swore it to him with every breath shared between us and every gentle caress of our lips and tongues, caresses he felt in every single way.

I shifted, pressing ever closer to Rhys, and felt something thick and long press against me between the crest of my thighs. A groan slipped out of me. Rhys clutched at my shoulders. “Mmm, I think we should go now.”

“It’s a long drive home. Better, um,” I glanced down to where his erection hid between our locked hips, “buckle up for the ride?”

“That was terrible, darling,” Rhys replied. “But I’ll take it.”

He kissed my head and let go to get in the car, but not before he’d snuck in one more quick, breathtaking kiss that left me questioning my ability to drive us safely home.

Unlike getting my ass through hell and back to get to the airport, driving home was exhilarating with Rhys back by my side and summer so close to starting. I rarely drove, which made me appreciate the open road ahead of me as we hit the freeway that much more. I used to easily miss the sky walking or taking the bus. Even on a clear, hot day, everything had always looked flat and gray. Today, the world was bright blue and full of a glowing sun that seemed to shout in my ear, _Wake up! Summer is coming!_

Rhys started off casually enough, holding my hands and running his thumb in circles over my palm. Circles that gradually drifted higher on my wrist making my skin tingle and shiver. The crease at my elbow gasped in anticipation as I pulled off the freeway exit into Rhys’s neighborhood and felt him breeze his touch lightly over my skin there. His fingertips had slipped into the small opening where my shirt sleeve puckered by the time I pulled into his driveway, no other cars in sight.

“Is your dad home - _ah_.”

The moan Rhys elicited from me was positively delicious. His lips pressed to the spot below my ear, even more glorious.

“I’ll take that as a _no_ ,” I said. Rhys only increased his feverous kisses up and down my neck, grabbing the other side of me with need. Longing sprung up sharp and ravenous, lighting a fire between my thighs that I allowed to storm up deep and unbridled. “Let’s go inside,” I said with a breathy moan.

Rhys placed one last fervent kiss along my neck and pulled back. “Are you sure?” he asked, his face serious and full of thought. I knew what he was really trying to ask.

_Are you sure you’re ready?_

We hadn’t slept together since our miracle Christmas in Colorado. The next time I’d seen him had been our fight that brought everything to a head, and every time since he’d visited I’d still been recovering.

Rhys hadn’t pushed me once. And to be honest, I’d barely thought about the idea of having sex when we saw each other even if my body had recognized the desire more and more each time we collided into one another at the airport. It was like my senses had been gradually coming back to me and I had yet to recognize how to use them.

Now, I had no doubts. Now, there was heat again. There was _fire_ . It burned so brightly, I thought I might turn to ash if I didn’t indulge it quick enough. Rhys really had been correct when he’d said I was alive again. Parts of me were still healing, still finding their way back to me, and I knew I would never be the same girl again. At least now I could feel things that weren’t only bottomless loneliness and that empty feeling of death knocking constantly at the door. Instead, I could feel _him_.

Slowly, I gave Rhys one of his own feral grins. And then I pounced.

Tearing my seat belt off, I scrambled across the center console, albeit a little more awkwardly than I would have liked, and stumbled into his lap.

“What the hell, Feyre?!” Rhys roared with a great peal of laughter. I grinned wider straddling him as best I could and came crashing down onto his mouth, my fingers going every which way through his hair, down his neck, and slipping under his shirt to feel the expanse of chest I’d missed so much. It wasn’t enough. In a frenzy, I pulled. Buttons flew in a line causing Rhys to swear as I moved to smother his skin in kisses, nipping as I went.

His hands dug into my hips, grabbing me closer. I thought I was going to combust. Every touch was insatiable. Every kiss electric.

“My purse,” I moaned in a series of pants as we broke apart. I’d left it on the backseat of the car. Leaning forward, I reached out for it while Rhys took the opportunity to continue praising the delicate skin along my collarbone. Meanwhile, his hands went south, rubbing over the exterior of my leggings and hitting the sweetest spot.

“Oh. My. _Stars_ ,” I barely managed to squeak out. Rhys made a noise I hoped I’d never forget as he found the little bud of nerves and pressed. “My purse, my purse, _my purse_.” My fingers just grazed the handle and I was able to haul into the driver’s spot I’d vacated in a whirling mess that spilled the contents all over the seat. It didn’t matter. In fact, it made it easier to pull out the little foil square I’d been in desperate search of.

My fingers ripped at the edge of the packet - as carefully as they dared without losing speed.

Rhys undid the zip on his jeans, revealing the boxers concealed beneath. Then he set to work on pulling down my leggings, which wasn’t hard to accomplish at all even in the confined space. “Look at you,” he breathed, his hands caressing the sides of my thighs as I just got the last of my leggings off from around my feet. Either thumb slipped beneath the band of my panties and tugged. “I have fucking missed you so much, Feyre.” His voice was raw, hardly even there.

I couldn’t help it. I smiled. Especially when Rhys got the little black fabric off and hissed at the wetness waiting for him as he dragged a finger through me. I shuddered, and forced him to stop.

It was my turn. And I was too damn impatient to keep waiting.

Beckoning him to lift his hips, I slid his jeans and boxers down - dark purple ones I once considered stealing before he left for New York - and watched his eyes flutter shut while I rolled the condom down his fully erect length. If we hadn’t been in the car and there’d been more room, I might have sucked him off then and there, the idea almost too tempting to resist. As it was, I settled for reaching over to pull the latch on the seat so it slid as far back as possible, the back end going down quite a bit. I toppled over him with a giggle, Rhys’s eyes bright, and thanked whatever kind soul lived above that Rhys’s driveway was quite a ways back from the road and neighbors.

Despite the fever pitch filling the car and fogging the windows, I slid down onto him slowly, my breath catching as I stretched achingly at the fill of him. _Fuck_ , I had missed this too. His hips pitched up in one long stroke, letting me feel every glorious inch of him until I was sheathed all the way down.

Slowly. We came together slowly, little collisions that toppled one over the other until we found our rhythm. Sweat pooled on my brow. Rhys bit at my lower lip. And my hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt as if I could yank him to me even closer.

After a particularly rough nibble just above his nipple, Rhys was tugging at my top. “Fair is fair,” he whispered, taking me in. “Fair is - Feyre, you’re beautiful.” He fled to me, his movements at my hips growing slightly erratic as he took me. The slight twist in angles was exquisite, hitting my clit with each pulse of our connection. His face skated down my chest, his mouth dipping to taste my breasts as I eagerly slid the cups of my bra down.

“Rhys!” His name shattered from my lips over and over as he teased and tormented my chest, my nipples, bringing me so, so close to the edge. I wanted to come hard and long, never letting it end, it felt so damn right between us.

Why had I waited so long to get help? Why had I lied to this wonderful man holding me tight? Why had I ever believed it was impossible to feel this _good_ again? Why had my heart believed all of the lies of my brain?

Emotion welled up as my body sang at Rhys’s every touch. In one arm, he held me. With the other, we clasped hands. We could have been dancing, the music swelling between us where we joined. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, notes falling across my skin like a symphony. A tear slid down my cheek unexpected melding into the harmony smoothly. “Absolutely _perfect_ , Feyre.”

It was all the reassurance I needed as Rhys dipped his head and groaned into my neck, biting at the skin.

My body tightened in one hard clench, the bundle of nerves at the apex of my crotch shooting a blinding, blissful sensation of ecstasy through every muscle, bone, and nerve as I came. Rhys thrust up once, twice, a third time drawing out my pleasure as much as he could before I felt him spill into me.

I fell against his chest, not wanting to move, the feel of him still half hard inside me too good to let go of just yet. He brought our still clasped hands up and kissed them delicately, drawing small circles on my back. My tears disappeared somewhere into the folds of his open shirt.

It was almost dark out. His dad would be home soon likely. Eventually, we’d have to go inside. All I wanted to do was sit there and stare at the little stars beginning to twinkle into existence above us.

Looking over next to us, my purse had become a mess. Everything from spare condoms to tissues and my wallet scattered about. My eyes caught on a pile of art markers that had clustered together below one of the straps. Without thinking, I grabbed one of the blue ones and uncapped it.

“What are you doing?” Rhys asked when he felt the cold tickle of the marker tip against his skin. He’d closed his eyes at some point as I’d been resting.

“Marking my territory,” I said cooly, the most normal thing in the world I tried to make it seem. He winked one eye open and I looked up at him coyly from below my lashes.

“Here,” he said, and shifted so that I finally came off of him, much to my sadness, but it was easier to work once he had me sitting on his lap sideways, both arms around me. I brought his hand back into my hold and continued dragging the deep blue ink over his skin, right between where the thumb and index finger met. With no particular ideas in mind, I simply let the pen move until five little points had formed, each connected and finally forming a star. Two more blue pens for some shading and two minutes later, I was done.

“There,” I said when I’d finished. “What do you think?”

Rhys barely gave my little star any thought, choosing to gaze into my eyes with his violet depths instead. “I love you, Feyre,” he breathed, leaning closer until our noses touched. “I hope you know just how much I love you.”

My insides squirmed, drunk on the moment. “I love you too, Rhysand.”

He smiled and pressed a cool, collected kiss to my lips that lingered for several seconds. “Come on,” he said finally. “Let’s go inside and order pizza and see what other places you can find to draw on me.”

I giggled madly. “Deal.”

* * *

_Rhys: Did you tell her yet?_

I glanced sideways without making it obvious to check on my eldest sister behind the wheel. Nesta had calmed down a bit since getting rejected about the professor job. Today, she drove with just _one_ hand on the wheel instead of two. It was a wonder she’d agreed to drive me to work this afternoon for a shorter late shift when Elain had claimed a stomach bug and stayed home.

_Feyre: No… not yet._

_Feyre: I kind of wanna wait until after work when I don’t have anything else to focus on._

_Rhys: So tonight then?_

_Feyre: Yeah, maybe._

_Rhys: It’ll be great. She’s gonna be ecstatic you wanna go on the trip with her._

I frowned, again trying not to attract Nesta’s attention. She was already a little snippy at the amount of time I was spending on my phone texting with Rhys instead of doing something more productive - like talking with her probably.

_Feyre: If you think Nesta is ever ecstatic about anything, I don’t think you’ve actually met the woman._

_Rhys: Really, I think you underestimate her sometimes._

_Feyre: Yeah, you’re probably right._

_Rhys: Aren’t I always?_

Nesta had surprised me more and more this year. I no longer felt like a ten year gap separated us in age or that Elain was the only true sister in her eyes. We were something like equals maybe, and I quite liked it.

“I’ll see you at dinner?” I asked when Nesta pulled up in front of the gallery. “I was sort of hoping we could talk about some stuff.”

Nesta arched a precarious brow before nodding. “Yeah, I’ll be there. You want Chipotle again?”

“Ugh, yes please!”

I hopped out and skipped off before she could rescind the offer.

Sunday afternoon and the gallery was starting to quiet down from a long weekend. A small event all day on Saturday that I’d spent a few weeks organizing to host some of the local middle school art classes had led to Alis giving me most of Sunday off for all the hard work and staying late to breakdown a few small booths that had been setup. She had wanted me in today not to work, mostly so she could chat with me about more event stuff briefly.

I went to knock on her office door and found it already open. “Alis?” I asked.

“Feyre, yes! Come in. Sit!” She said the last with a snap of her fingers pointing sharply at the chairs in front of her still cluttered desk. “How are you, Feyre?”

“Good,” I said, taking a seat. “Got more events lined up for me?”

Alis grinned. “I’m glad to see you fully on your feet again. It’s exactly what I’d been hoping to see happen.”

I beamed, pleased at her approval. I had been a little embarrassed early on about how my boss was going to take my flightiness with the panic attacks and medication adjustments. Thankfully, she’d handled it all with ease and mercy having apparently experienced similar things before in her own life that helped her understand what I was going through, even if she never mentioned specifics. Ever since coming back from Christmas and getting through the Spring Solstice (with lots of help from Lucien), I’d tackled event after event, each one stronger and better than the last on a personal work level.

“Well I’m ready for whatever you’ve got next. Hit me with it.”

I sat up straight in my chair as much as I could, squared my shoulders, and flashed Alis a confident smile. It had been a few months since the gallery had hosted any major events and now that I was feeling so great, I was ready for a challenge.

Alis leaned forward on her desk, hands clasped. Something in her eyes sparked to life as she regarded me with some sort of amusement I couldn’t read well.

“How would you feel about working in Paris next year, Feyre?”

My entire cheery demeanor dropped, right along with my words. “I… um. I’m sorry - what?”

“Paris!” Alis sounded as if the deal were already struck.

“As in… Paris, _France_?”

“Yes, the very one and only! The Musée D’Orsay is looking for English Ambassadors to help with their International Tours Department. I just got the email this morning and I think you’d be a perfect fit for the program! What do you say?”

I couldn’t say anything.

_Paris? France? EUROPE?_

Holy shit, she had to be kidding, except… this was Alis and Alis was never just joking around.

She stared at me wide-eyed, awaiting my response. “I say… uh, you’re gonna have to pinch me because I think I might be dreaming.”

Alis tossed her head back and laughed. “Well of course you are! It’s an incredible opportunity very much like a dream. There’s no guarantee you’ll get the spot as you’ll have to apply of course, but I would be happy to serve as your reference and give you a glowing recommendation. If you’re up for it of course.”

There it was. That look again. The one that was amused. I just couldn’t tell if it was amusement _at_ me or at something else.

The last time Alis had asked me to take over a new position - the one I currently held - it had been something of a struggle. I’d had zero confidence in myself to do that job even though it thrilled me to death to have the opportunity. Did she think I was about to battle her again over this?

 _No_.

My heart’s response was instantaneous. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up. When I thought that in just a few short months I could be living and working full time in _Paris_ at one of the world’s most prestigious art museums of all freaking places, my heart threatened to explode.

And right properly sank when I remembered Nesta and the trip I’d been planning on telling her I’d go on tonight at dinner.

 _Damn_.

“I can see you’re hesitating, Feyre, and let me assure you-”

“No,” I said, stopping her in a rare moment of defiance I seldom had toward my boss. Looking a bit surprised, though rather pleased as well, Alis sat back and waited. “It’s not that I’m hesitating. This just took me off guard, is all. It’s a big, _big_ decision and I had sort of just made plans earlier today about what I’d be working on next. So I’m just a little confused?”

“Ah, well that makes perfect sense. Try not to stress over it. Applications literally just opened up this week and they’ll be open for a while. Worst case scenario, you apply, go through the process, gain some valuable experience in interviewing for your field, and leave a wiser person no matter where you wind up.” She shrugged. “It can’t hurt you any to try.”

She was right. She was so, so right.

Ready or not for living solo across the Atlantic, away from the friends and family that had been keeping me sane all year long, did seem rather daunting. I’d have to consult my doctor about meds and talk to my sisters who had learned to read me rather well. And of course, there would be the matter of Rhys, though I had a feeling he’d be more thrilled than disappointed. After all, a plane ride from New York to Paris couldn’t be that much longer than flying out to the west coast, could it?

“I’ll think about it,” I promised Alis. “I really well.”

“Splendid!” And then she stood and shook my hand, and it felt like everything was falling into place. I could hardly see the hollow shell of a girl I had been before even if I still carried her with me always to remember to keep my focus always facing forward toward the good and the future. “Would you mind if I ask you what you were planning on doing this fall? I won’t be angry if it’s not staying on here, promise.”

I bit my lip a tad nervous, and decided Alis would find out eventually anyway. “My sister is taking some time off work to travel. She’s just finished her PhD and we’ve sort of been bonding more lately. She thought it might good for us to get out and explore the world a little.”

If I’d thought Alis would be upset over my idea to leave her high and dry on an events coordinator opening, then I was wrong. “Feyre, that sounds like an absolutely _delicious_ idea.”

And Paris be damned, I thought so too.

* * *

“Come on!”

I would have dragged Nesta from the car, not even fully parked yet, had I not burst out and practically run to our apartment door. Bouncing up and down on the soles of my feet, I waited for my sister to catch up. No one watching would have guessed I was almost twenty and not some obnoxious five-year-old sibling.

“Do you have to be so excited about everything right now?” Nesta asked. “It’s only Chipotle. You’ve had it like three times this week already.”

“That’s not why I’m excited!”

Nesta tossed me the bags filled with burritos and guac and all sorts of wonderful, and held the house keys away as she crossed her arms. Apparently, I wasn’t getting inside without explaining myself.

“I got offered a job today - well, kind of,” I said. Nesta kept a blank expression, so… I went on. “I don’t know what to do. It’s an incredible opportunity, one that I normally wouldn’t want to pass up.”

“But?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for something this big. It’s not even in the same country.” Nesta’s brows rose in surprise. I ambled on. “And…” I bit my lip trying to contain my enthusiasm. Something about the idea of traveling with my sister still had me just as excited, if not more so, than the offer to Paris. “I had sort of been hoping to tell you tonight that you could count me in for Thailand, or you know, wherever it is we’re going.”

Nesta stayed very quiet, surveying me for a long while before her lips slid cautiously into an _almost_ smile of approval. “Come on,” she said, sidelining me to get to the door and unlock it. “We need Elain for this conversation.”

My stomach did wonderful summersaults. Finally, everything was exactly as it should be between us. The world was full of wonderful possibilities again and nothing could go wrong.

“Elain?” I called into the apartment. No response came, but distantly, I heard the toilet flush from the bathroom. Immediately I dug out my burrito with extra guac, double wrapped of course, and grabbed a plate from the kitchen. Nesta threw her stuff down and went for the drinks.

For a second time, I heard the toilet flushing. I forgot Elain had been sick this morning. Trying hard not to be disappointed at the delay in getting to my burrito, I went to the bathroom door and knocked lightly. “Elain? We got dinner.”

“Okay… just a minute!”

For some reason, she didn’t sound quite right. I looked back at Nesta who just rolled her eyes. I wasn’t buying it. Elain had said she had the stomach bug, but she sounded almost upset. I knocked again.

“Hey, you okay in there? Do you need anything?”

This time, Elain didn’t reply. And now that the noise from the toilet refilling had died down, I could hear my sister inside - _crying_.

“Oh my gosh, Elain what’s wrong?”

“What’s going on?” Nesta called from the table.

“Something’s wrong with Elain!”

“N-no!” Elain called, a nervous edge to voice, along with more sniffles. “I’m fine.”

And then she threw up. It sounded horrible.

“Ugh, no you aren’t,” I said. “I’m coming in.”

“No, Feyre - don’t, please!”

Too late. I twisted the handle and stepped inside to the pale light of our small, shared bathroom. Elain sat on the floor next to the toilet, now full of contents I tried desperately not to look at or smell, her face streaked with tears and mascara.

“What happened?” I asked leaning down to crouch next to her. She looked awful, sick and pale and like something was very, very wrong.

Elain gasped trying to tell me and couldn’t get the words out. “Oh honey,” I said, pulling her into my arms. She didn’t resist. “Please tell me. You’ve helped me so much. You know I can do the same for you, right?”

“I don’t think you can, Feyre,” Elain whispered. “Not this time.”

I pulled back and tried to straighten some of her hair that had fallen in the way while she’d thrown up, avoiding the sticky bits as best I could. “What are you talking about? Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

Elain swallowed and her eyes went cold with dread, shame, and… fear. “Are you sure about that?”

Before I could reply, she handed me a small, white plastic stick with a screen attached. Confused, I looked down at the screen and saw two pink lines. All of the blood in my body seemed to drain right out of me as my brain made sense of what I was looking at.

“Oh my gosh,” I gasped. “No, Elain - you aren’t-”

“Mhm,” she nodded, eyes watering, right as Nesta reached the door and pushed it wide.

“What’s going on in here? Your food is gonna get cold if you don’t come-” Her eyes caught the stick. Her arms slackened. “Elain?”

My middle sister glanced nervously between us before the dam broke and she was sobbing again as she tried to talk. “It’s t-true.”

“You’re-”

“Pregnant!” Her entire body shook. “What the fuck am I going to do?!”

And then she threw up for the dozenth time into the toilet as the three of us sat there stunned into silence.

_To Be Continued..._


	23. Beyond the Stars, an Epilogue Part 1: Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elucien <3

_Two Years Later_

Spring

\-----

Mrs. Archeron requests the pleasure of your attendance to the wedding of her daughter,

Elain Archeron

to

Lucien Vanserra,

Son of Mr. & Mrs. Vanserra

 

On Saturday, June 9, 2018

At the Richard Nixon Library & Museum

Anaheim, California

 

Wedding Ceremony to commence promptly at 5pm

with reception immediately to follow.

We kindly request that no children attend.

 

Please R.S.V.P. to Mrs. Archeron or Mr. & Mrs. Vanserra no later than May the 15th.

\-----

_Lucien: Can I talk to you?_

Those were the last words I’d gotten to read before the crappy airplane wifi swallowed my response back. Oh well. Lucien would just have to wait.

At the very least, my laptop didn’t need wifi to format my resume in Word while inflight. It wasn’t as entertaining as I’d hoped for airline amusement when I had a new Lautrec biography to read, just waiting on my Kindle reader, but if I wanted any shot in hell at getting the new curating assistant job I’d been screaming about for a month to anyone who’d listen, I’d have to put some fresh work in.

My resume was no longer shockingly sparse. In some ways, while everyone else had been off to college, I felt like I’d been thrown into my own form of academic training with the various jobs - and travel opportunities - that had come my way.

The LA gallery was already listed down below my short education text at the top. With a fierce, broad smile, I cracked my knuckles once with immense satisfaction, moved the cursor over, and bumped Alis and my event planning days down a notch to make room for more recent conquests.

The first update to add would technically need to go below the work experience block and into more of a miscellaneous, noteworthy… things section that I was still trying to title properly so I could fit my half a year in the southeast with Nesta in. The more time I spent networking with art industry professionals, the more I learned the value placed on travel and culture. My trip had certainly been about all of that and more, especially the food. _Oh my stars, the food._ I’d go back to Japan where our trek ended in a heartbeat if it meant more fresh sushi and macha on the daily.

Even more though than the food and the sparkling oceans and nature I was constantly surrounded by as I hopped from country to country, my trip abroad had given me back my sister in full. Nesta and I talked more than we had in our entire lifetime together, the new cultures and languages we encountered our gateway to be open and honest with each other about life in general. It wasn’t serious, even if sometimes it was, and it wasn’t always the deep, soul-searching type of bs that made me get help, even if sometimes that came up too.

It was just… two sisters. Having _fun_ together. And learning things about each other they hadn’t known before. What they liked to eat, what they hated. Where they hoped to go one day, who they wanted to be and be with. Their fears, their dreams.

Sure Nesta still snapped at me when I made a fool out of myself trying to speak the most basic of greetings in different languages when we arrived at our hotels. But she also laughed more than I’d ever seen her and was sad to see me stay back with Elain come January when Daisy was born.

I didn’t regret the decision one bit. Daisy was a _doll_. And Elain, only recently moved in with Lucien, needed all the help she could get.

Part of me also thought Nesta was secretly happy to go back to Japan after the birth to have some more personal one-on-one time with Cassian now that he was stationed there. I’d had fun sightseeing with him and was really looking forward to seeing the pair of them together again this weekend, their first time out in front of the family.

More important than the trip, no matter how much I could have interviewed on that experience alone, was the year that followed where I currently still found myself - in Seattle with Mor. With Az gone on a year abroad program in Italy, I jumped at the chance to sublet with Mor. New city? Check. Same best friend to keep me steady? Check. New art galleries and museums to work at? CHECK.

And Seattle had some of the best. The art scene had been a bit tougher to crack into than LA where I’d sort of lucked straight into my job with Alis, so ultimately I took shorter hours at a crappy receptionist job with the Seattle Asian Art Museum while putting the bulk of my time into an internship with the Museum of Pop Culture.

And now I was here, sitting on a plane with a wealth of new experience behind me and a wedding just in front.

I pulled out Elain’s carefully crafted and oh so traditional invitation, complete with gold leaf accents and stunning calligraphy that I was sure mom had shelled out for. I knew the Richard Nixon Library wouldn’t have come cheap either and wondered who was fronting the bill for all of this. Lucien’s modeling career had really taken off now that he’d landed that spread with Calvin Klein and we all knew his family was loaded to the nines.

Whatever. It really didn’t matter who was paying. All that did matter was that my sister was exuberantly happy with her new little family she’d started. When I thought back to that night when Nesta and I had found her puking her guts up with morning/night sickness, freaking out because she didn’t know what she was gonna do with a _baby_ and Lucien who she’d only just started dating, it made me want to laugh. Everything had worked out in the end just fine.

I smiled, and tucked the invitation away, taking the last few minutes of the flight to look out the window. The sun was just setting over John Wayne airport in Orange County, which was mercifully way less of a disaster than LAX. The colors were fantastic sweeping over the sky, not a drop of rain in sight. Hopefully, it would look just as marvelous in two days at the evening ceremony.

First thing as soon as the plane hit the runway, I took my phone off airplane mode and reconnected to my data plan. To my surprise, my short _‘about to get on a plane but what’s up?’_ text had gone through to Lucien. I waited, in case it was taking my phone a while to catch up, but no reply back from Lucien had come through.

_Feyre: Landed! Meet up at the hotel in a couple hours?_

After far too long waiting for people to get their luggage down from the overhead bins and one screaming toddler who threw their juice box down and absolutely _refused_ to get off the plane, I finally passed through the carrier door and headed down to freedom. A slight breeze sent a cool gust of SoCal wind past the doorway as I passed through filling my lungs with a delicious freedom.

I had missed California. It was great to be back, even for just the weekend.

And not only because the weather was so damn beautiful.

Waiting for me just a few feet away from where the gate let out stood a tall figure leaned casually against a stone support pillar, hands in his pants pockets, the lapels of his suit jacket perfectly pressed, hair artfully styled to look put together and casual at the same time. Rhys smirked when he saw me and waited for me to walk over. I took my time, admiring every inch of his perfect, lithe figure all the way up to the violet eyes that greeted me as I neared.

“Darling,” he purred, a long finger propping up my chin so he could give me a rather chaste peck on the lips. “You look absolutely divine.”

“Mmm,” I said. “Constricting airplane seats will do that to a person.”

His mouth split into a wide grin and we embraced. “It’s good to see you,” he said into my hair. “It was worth taking the extra day off to make it for this.”

“You’re sure this won’t affect your summer internship too much? Missing all that time? You just started.”

Rhys flicked my nose and took over holding my backpack, nevermind his own plus the carry-on he’d brought. “Of course not. Seeing Lucien get married to your sister? I wouldn’t miss it for the world. You check a bag?”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to let my Best Woman attire get all wrinkled crammed up in the overhead bin.”

“Hmm.” Rhys frowned. “We need to work on that title. It still sounds a bit strange to the ear, don’t you think?”

I shrugged. “I tried suggesting Best Mate to Lucien, but he worried it was too suggestive. I told him people in Australia and England use the word all the time for friend. He still isn’t too sure. I’ll try to convince him.”

“Speaking of England, have you-”

“No, I haven’t sent the application in yet. Stop pestering!”

“Yet. You haven’t sent it yet.”

“Yes, yet. I’m going to. I actually got a lot wrapped up on my resume while I was on the plane. I’m gonna look it over and maybe work on it some tonight.”

Rhys somehow manage to get an arm around my shoulder as we wove through the crowds toward baggage claim and whispered in my ear, “If you think _that’s_ what you’re working on tonight, I’m afraid you’re _sorely_ mistaken.”

“Is that a promise?” I purred right back.

“You know it.”

Together, we found my checked bag, and made our way to the shuttle that would take us to the hotel everyone was staying the night in. I checked my phone as Rhys checked in with the driver. Lucien still hadn’t replied.

* * *

My bitterness at hearing the rampant rapping on our hotel room door before 7:15 in the morning was wiped away when I saw my niece toddling on the other side.

“Surprise!” I couldn’t tell who was more excited to see me - Daisy or Elain.

“Oh my gosh, you did _not_.” I clapped and held my hands out. Daisy ran right into to me wearing a Daisy Duck themed outfit with matching Mickey ears. “Holy crow, you really did. And you’ve grown little one!”

Elain grinned ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. “Isn’t it adorable?! Lucien found it in one of the Downtown Disney shops late last night and brought it back up for her. He’s the best dad! I really can’t believe our luck sometimes. I can’t wait to take her inside the park with it!"

“Lucien went out last night?”

“Yeah! He came back with all sorts of little gifts. Isn’t that so sweet?”

“It is!” I flashed my most confident, winning smile and bounced Daisy around as though nothing was wrong so as not to scare Elain. “Speaking of _daddy_ ,” and little Daisy lit up like the sun at the mention of her papa, “um, where is he?”

“Oh he went down to breakfast already. Got the early start. He said he’ll meet you in the lobby when you’re ready to go in. Just text him. And you little one…” Elain reached out and Daisy flung her arms out.

“Mama!”

“Aww, that’s my girl!” Elain squeezed her in tight and gave me the biggest pair of puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. It was like she was going to cry. I hadn’t seen her this emotional over Daisy since she was first born. Maybe wedding jitters were starting to take their toll. “Come on you, we have to go wake Auntie Nesta up and drag her down to the teacups before the lines get too long.”

“I still can’t believe you decided to have your bachelorette at Disneyland.”

Elain shrugged, altogether pleased with herself. “See you in a bit? For breakfast?”

“Ugh, food yes. I’ll be there.”

I’d hoped Lucien would show up for breakfast. I’d also hoped Disney would have an endless supply of bacon. Apparently I was wrong on both fronts as neither Lucien nor the bacon made an appearance in the Disney kitchen, much to my disappointment.

Elain had said he’d gotten the early jump on the food front. I just wasn’t buying it. He still hadn’t said anything to my text from the airport and that… worried me.

My sisters were already seated with Daisy and mom when Rhys and I made it down, Daisy bouncing along in her high chair. Princess Jasmine was just saying goodbye when we plopped into our seats.

“Feyre, honey!” Mom got up smoothly and hugged me as if no time had passed. She was extra welcoming to Rhys. It still unnerved me to see her so open. Having the distance away had somehow helped our relationship to stabilize, though I think having Daisy was what really had done the trick. Something about her first grandbaby had totally changed her overall demeanor. We just didn’t talk much about personal matters in the meantime.

“How were your flights?” she asked as we all took our spots back up.

“Oh you know, fine,” I said. “No turbulence, nice and short. I’m sure Rhys has more eventful stories since his flight was three times as long.”

Rhys was already tucking in to a full plate of eggs, toast, and hash browns with an indulgent amount of ketchup on the side. “Nope,” he shook his head. “Can’t say that I do, most unfortunately. It was fairly relaxed this time. Just long.”

“No dashing flight attendants catch your fancy, eh?”

Rhys slid his gaze over to me coyly. “Darling,” he said. “You know I’d never.”

“I know.” I threw in a wink for good measure. Rhys grinned and took another huge bite of eggs. How he managed to eat so delicately with such big bites was beyond me.

“That’s wonderful,” mom said, feeding Daisy bits of mashed up egg. “I’m so glad you were able to make it, Rhysand. It’s so thoughtful of you.”

Nesta stood suddenly and left the table. I saw her disappear into a corridor with a “Restrooms” sign hanging above it in the Disney script. Her shoulders were squared off tensely as she flung the ladies room door open, complete with a silhouette of Minnie on the front.

“I’m gonna grab more juice,” mom said jumping up. “Anyone want anything?”

We all declined and I took advantage of the moment to lean over to Elain. “What was all of that about?”

Taking over food duty with Daisy, Elain was strained trying to stay upbeat with her little girl. This was Disney after all. “What was what all about?”

“Nesta. She bolted. Why?”

“Because!” Elain kept up the sing-song charade, glancing over her shoulder to make sure mom was still out of earshot. “Cassian couldn’t get leave to come to the wedding! And mom keeps bringing it up in all these passive aggressive ways! And now my Maid of Honor hates everything about this weekend and it’s all totally great! Isn’t it Daisy Ducky, isn’t it!”

“Shit.”

“Feyre, language!”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not the one singing out a family soap opera to a one-and-a-half year old. Did you know anything about this?”

Rhys side-eyed me and quickly slurped down his current bite of food. “Oh no, don’t look at me. That’s bro code. But… no, he didn’t say anything to me. And even if I _had_ known something - bro code, Feyre.”

“Maybe I should go check on-”

“They have fresh _grapefruit_ juice!” mom exclaimed, reclaiming her seat. “Can you believe it? Disney just has everything.”

Everything except bacon.

* * *

“There you are,” I said, linking my arm into Lucien’s as soon as I spotted him in the Grand Californian lobby. I looked over my shoulder and signaled all was well to Rhys. With Cassian gone, he agreed to meet up with Lucien and I in the park later so we could have a chance to talk about the texting fiasco. Then the real ‘bachelor’ festivities could begin.

“Hey,” he said, subdued even for his usual standards. His eyes looked red and irritated, like he’d been up all night. Elain had said he’d gotten in late.

“You ready to head into the park and start your super, awesome, Disney-filled bachelor day festivities?!”

“Fuck, Feyre. Not if you’re going to go completely animated on me the entire day.”

I frowned. “What’s wrong Lukey? What did Mickey ever do to you?”

“Please don’t start.”

At least some things hadn’t changed. “Come on,” I said and dragged him along to the hotel park entrance. That was the nice thing about staying in the Grand Californian. It hooked right into Disney California Adventure. The girls went off to Disneyland on the other since the rides were more kid friendly for Daisy and that way we wouldn’t risk running into each other. We were supposed to be keeping the bride and groom separate at least a little bit in the true spirit of wedding weekend.

“So,” I said, stepping out in the wonderful glowing sunshine I adored of springtime in SoCal. “What first - Guardians of the Galaxy or the Incredicoaster? Groom’s choice!” Lucien glared, prompting me to tug on his arm. “Come on, pick something.”

“I don’t really care.”

“Okay, _fine_. Starbucks it is then.”

“What?” Lucien stopped mid-stride as I took off for the Starbucks I knew was just around the corner closer to the main entryway. “We already ate breakfast.”

“Yeah, but you’re being a jackass and I’m not getting on the happiest rides in the world with Scrooge Frickin’ McDuck. So come get your damn mocha latte caramel frappuccino americano model diet bullshit or whatever and you can tell me all about your cryptic texting habits, hmm?”

Lucien scowled and begrudgingly stepped into stride next to me. “It’s just a black coffee - for the record. Or have you forgotten our hospital nights?”

“Starbucks coffee is the best worst shit. No Lukey, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Must you keep calling me that? This weekend of all weekends?”

“Ah, that’s more like it.”

One shitty black coffee and sensational passion tea lemonade later, Lucien and I found ourselves sitting on benches among the trees surrounding Grizzly Rapids in what was a pretty stunning imitation of California’s expansive redwood forests.

“So what did you want to talk about?” I asked.

“Getting straight to it, are we?”

I slapped him on the shoulder, hard enough to make him look up. “Don’t do that. You texted me three days before your wedding asking me if we could talk. You don’t do that. I’m the one with all the emotional trauma you have to manage. Is it…” I dropped my voice, trying to take some of the sting out. “Your mom? Is she sick again?”

“No, it’s not my mom. She’s fine. Her and dad are already checked in closer to the venue resting up and doing just fine.”

“Okay, then what is it?”

Lucien rolled his head, cracking his neck. His eyes fell shut as his head tipped back. Anyone watching would have thought he was merely enjoying the warm sun on his pale, freckled skin.

“It’s the wedding,” he said.

All my senses immediately heightened. “Do you… are you saying you’re getting cold feet?”

“Fuck no!” Lucien spat and I was glad to hear the certainty in his tone. But then he sighed and barely whispered, “I’m worried Elain is.”

“What?!”

“Feyre.” When Lucien looked at me, his eyes were the saddest I’d seen them. “Am I good enough for her?”

My mouth fell open. “What? Of course you are! Why would you even have to ask that?”

I tried not to sound shocked, not wanting to offend him or make him think I was judging him. He took a long drag of his coffee and ran a hand across his scalp, forgetting he’d knotted his long locks up in a bun for the day.

“I just wonder sometimes if she feels stuck.”

“Stuck?”

“Mhm. Because of Daisy. Because I did that to her and now maybe she feels like she has no choice except to marry me. And between school and modeling, I’m always working. What if she thinks I’m not gonna be there enough for her? A good enough husband? A good enough dad-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa - stop right there.” I grabbed his arm and gripped it tight. “Do you know what she said to me this morning? The literal first words out of her mouth when she knocked on my door with Daisy?” Lucien stayed quiet, his eyes hooked on mine. “She was so busy _gushing_ about how you’d stayed out late and brought back that outfit for her daughter, among a million other gifts, that I barely got to say hi to my own niece. And you think she doesn’t love you?”

There. A small glimmer behind his russet eyes flickered to life. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said, a natural smile spreading on my face. “Lucien, Elain may have quite literally _freaked out_ and lost her shit when she found out she was pregnant with Daisy, but trust me when I say that she is head over heels in love with _you_. She wouldn’t be here if she weren’t, I swear.”

He tried to massage his scalp again and almost chuckled deliriously when he came up short a second time. “I just don’t want to let her down.”

“Lucien-”

“I love her, Feyre. I love her _so much_.”

He drained the rest of his coffee in one go. I scratched his back and leaned against his shoulder. “I know you do, Lukey. And when you hear what she wrote in her vows, you’re gonna know without a doubt that she loves you too.”

“Really? You read her vows?”

Hopeful eyes clung to my every word. “Oh yeah. You’re gonna cry. Like, hysterically so. I’m gonna film it. It’s gonna be amazing.”

Finally, the classic Lucien scowl returned. Except this time, there was a lightness to it and I could tell we’d weathered the worst of the storm.

“We’ve been talking about having another one, you know. After the wedding.”

I jumped back. “What? Another kid?” Lucien nodded and it was getting harder and harder for him to hide his growing excitement. “Holy shit!”

“Hey!” Our heads snapped up to see a nearby mom glaring in our direction, her hands covering her small son’s ears. “That’s very rude! This is _Disneyland_.”

“Sorry,” I murmured. When she had passed well out of the way of us, Lucien snorted and we fell in together laughing hysterically. “‘ _This is Disneyland!’_ As if we weren’t aware.”

“We’re only sitting in the middle of the fucking park, for shit’s sake.”

“Shh!!” I covered his mouth hastily. “Don’t let her hear you or she’ll kick us out!” We laughed for another solid minute and when at last we’d finished, a calm had seemed to settle. “I think a brother or sister for Daisy sounds like a splendid idea.”

“Yeah?” Lucien smiled, true and genuine. “Me too. If it means more of what I see in Daisy and Elain every day, then that’s what I want.”

“Ughhhh, come on we need to go on a ride before Mickey Mouse walks by and sees me crying.”

“Good grief, Fey.”

“Well it’s true. Now come on, let’s go check out Pixar Pier first. I haven’t seen it since the remodel and I’m dying to try the Incredicoaster. Jack Jack gets lost in the tunnels!”

“You’re a child. A literal annoying child.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and jumped ahead, delighted when Lucien joined me.

* * *

“I now pronounce you, man and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

From where I stood behind Lucien, I could just make out Elain giving a little squeeze on their grasped palms before she leapt at him with an excited squee amongst all the ruffles of her fluffy tulle gown. If Lucien hadn’t gotten so in shape for his modeling career, I worried he might have toppled over as the yards of fabric flew at him with Elain’s force behind them. Instead, pure bliss drowned his features as his and Elain’s arms wrapped around one another tightly. The guests stood and clapped.

Lucien blushed as he faced everyone, going red in the face to match his hair that he’d worn down, simple and straight. My own blue tux matched his deep sapphire one. Elain was all smiles as she and Lucien walked down the aisle. I joined Nesta once they’d passed and took back up little Daisy, winking at Rhys as we made our way through the sea of flower petals littering the floor.

“She’s so wiggly today,” Nesta said, trying to keep Daisy reigned in. “I think she knows.”

“Good, she should.”

“Alright, back to your parents with you-”

“No!” I scrambled to take Daisy out of Nesta’s arms before she could get too far away. “Let them have a moment, they’ve earned it.”

Nesta shrugged and mercifully Daisy found my bowtie interesting enough to distract herself with.

Lucien and Elain now stood in the garden section of the Nixon Library just outside the main ceremony site used for the weddings held there. Their hands were loosely clasped together as they walked, a photographer an appropriate distance away snapping pictures quietly so as not to intrude when Lucien leaned into the crown of flowers tucked into Elain’s many curls, whispering softly. It was the very picture of romance as I’d always imagined it.

“Are you happy, darling?”

Rhys snaked his grip around my waist and made a goofy look at Daisy. The little one giggled profusely.

“Mmm,” I hummed contentedly. “Very.”

And then Daisy was out of my grasp, flying around in her Rhysie’s arms, as she’d taken to calling him on the few occasions they crossed paths. The sun formed an angelic little glow around her head as she flew, flew, flew.

The reception that swiftly followed looked like a spring dream. Peering around at all the pretty pastels in soft shades of pinks and reds, accented casually with the deep navy of our tuxes, I heavily regretted many of my decisions with the Spring Solstice event two years back. So many missed opportunities as I took in the floral centerpieces Elain had labored on for a month, the topiaries placed artfully around the garden lawn, and the little fairy lights strung up above the dance floor.

The food was another springtime fairytale altogether, filled with the flavors of mint and sage, roast lamb and seasoned vegetables, and light, flavorful salads served on the finest white china. It was simple, yet stunning. Sparkling champagne topped it off in a stunning myriad of bubbles and foam.

Waltzing around the dance floor, I twirled and twisted around Rhys, his elegant touch spinning in smooth circles as we wove between the other guests. A few people gave me a wary look in my tux, ponytail shaped high and sharp, as I danced next to Rhys looking equally crisp in his own black ensemble. I noticed as I came crashing back into him that he’d snatched a navy flower from a stray bouquet and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

Always, we had to match.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Rhys said, pouring the words like honey into my ear as we turned. “A thought for a thought.”

I laughed gleefully. “We haven’t done that since… since high school, I don’t think.”

Pulling back, Rhys’s eyes twinkled with magic. The sun had set by then, casting a beautiful hue over us beneath Elain’s fairy lights. “Seems we have some catching up to do, then.”

“Indeed. You start.”

“Cheater.” Rhys gave a gentle tug pulling me back to him, my head resting against his shoulder. “I’m thinking… I’d like to do this again one day.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I felt his chest take a relaxed fall, something like wistful relief billowing through us. “With you, if that’s okay.”

My heart thumped wildly as our dance began to slow. “What are you saying, exactly?” I couldn’t fight the smile making its way past my teeth, so I closed my eyes and waited for his answer.

Rhys chuckled, almost a purr it was so soft, so pure. “Simply that, darling. I’d like to dance with you again sometime, or maybe all the times, under the stars or wherever you’ll have me. If you like?”

Eyes still closed, I reached up and felt our lips touch sweetly. His grip that had been casually resting against my lower back tightened, not in passion, simply in love.

That’s what Rhys and I were - crazy, maddeningly in love. I felt every ounce of it clear up until our lips broke apart.

“Yes, I think I’d like that very much.”

Our noses touched, Rhys nuzzling in close. “Your turn.”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Oh yes,” and it came attached with a dependant, longing sigh, my answer necessary to his very being. “Tell me everything.”

“I’m thinking…” I bit my lip when Rhys nudged me sweetly at my hesitation. “I’m thinking that today’s a ten.”

Instantly, his eyes sparked, the stars inside them whirring to life.

“You are? Truly?”

His voice had gone raw and heavy, the ache of sorrow healing over resonating between the words. Slowly, I nodded.

“Really, really.”

Airborn for little more than a few dizzying moments, my feet left the floor and Rhys carried me in a spin designed to cure the heart of any ailment. It was a celebration, a thanksgiving, and one that was long overdue. I lost myself in the rush thrumming through my chest, holding on tight. Little tears pricked the insides of my eyes from the light breeze that dusted over me as I spun. Finally, Rhys set me back down to earth and together we continued spinning until we’d both lost track of time.

“I need a drink,” I said as the small orchestra hired for the evening drifted into a new melody.

“As you wish,” Rhys said, and bent to kiss my hand like a gentleman. “What’ll the lady have? More champagne? Red wine? Iced tea, perhaps?”

I laughed, letting all the energy inside me burst out, and spotted Nesta sitting in her decadent cream colored dress, all alone at the cocktail bar. Tucking a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her intricate updo the stylist had spent over an hour on this morning, I saw her gaze turn downward, her drink untouched before her.

“Actually, do you think you could go entertain Daisy for a few minutes? I’ll fetch us something delicious in the meantime.”

I stood on the tips of my toes and just managed to nip at Rhys’s lips. He grinned ear to ear in a wicked stare. “I am _so_ going to enjoy you staying with me in New York this summer before you take London by storm.”

“Ah ah! _If_ I get to go to London. I haven’t even applied yet.”

“You will. We’ll wrap it up tonight-”

“Rhys-”

“And then we’ll make love until the sun comes up and I can whisk you away to the city with me, and keep you all to myself to ravish you until you leave.”

“Rhys!”

There was no stopping him. The whispers tickled my ear, sending shivers down my back.

“You’ve no idea all the ways we’re going to celebrate when you get that job, Feyre darling. I’m going to lick you clean.”

I forced myself away from him and almost lost my footing. Rhys chuckled darkly, looking smug. “Go find Daisy! I have to… to get us those drinks.”

“With pleasure, my queen.”

I didn’t even have the heart to roll my eyes at him, I was too undone.

Righting myself as best I could, knowing my big sister would notice every little detail, I straightened my bowtie and headed for the cocktail bar. Only, Nesta had slipped away. Doubting I’d find her traipsing on the dance floor, I stole a white wine floating around with one of the servers and meandered about until I spotted her.

Again, she sat alone. Away from the party. Away from the lights. Her drink, whatever it was, looked flat and dull. There was just enough room for me to plop down on the stone seat next to her, where I leaned in with a little nudge at her shoulder. “Hey,” I said.

She didn’t look up. Didn’t say anything.

“So this is fun.”

“What do you need, Feyre? Can’t you just ask mom to do it, whatever it is?”

I was no longer the scared little girl to assume Nesta meant me harm with her biting words. I understood now that they were armor, not arrows.

“Nope, only you this time, I’m afraid.”

Nesta glowered at me. “What?”

“Dance with me?”

She snorted, a good sign. “Just because you’re in a tux does not mean you have to dance with me in Cass’s place. And don’t you _dare_ think of asking your boyfriend to do it for you.”

 _Ah_. So that’s what this was.

I laughed and let Nesta enjoy the full bellowing sound of it. “As if I’d ask Rhys to dance with you. Can you even imagine? Who would lead?!” Nesta didn’t join me in my glee. She only looked more sour, swirling the contents of her little glass drink around and around like a whirlpool to sink in. “You really miss him tonight, don’t you?”

Lips only slightly parted, Nesta nodded, her right foot bobbing against the concrete floor.

“Is… everything okay between you two? You’re not on the outs are you?”

“What?” Nesta looked almost hurt that I’d even suggest it, her eyes nearly glistening in a rare sight.

“I heard what mom said earlier. Elain told me Cass canceled last minute. He couldn’t get leave. Is that true or did he not want to come because you two are splitting up?”

“No,” Nesta said, and then the sharpness returned and she threw her head about in a rough scowl. “No, no, no we aren’t breaking up. It’s simply that being here without him is… difficult.”

“I find that a little hard to believe. You always did well with the family. You’re an utter shit most of the time, but you know how manage a crowd when you want to.”

“It’s not about that.”

“Then what is it about?”

She stilled, as if considering whether or not she ought to tell me what she was thinking.

“Everyone here is so happy for Elain,” she admitted finally. “I heard so many people tonight say they knew she’d be the first Archeron girl to tie the knot.”

“Is that what you want? To get married to Cassian?”

“We’re already married, Feyre.”

I couldn’t have said another if I’d wanted to. My lips fell apart, my brain scrambled. And I was pretty sure somewhere in the universe, my soul was ascending to a higher plane of existence. Nesta caught me in my moment of shock and actually turned a shade more scarlet than Lucien’s hair.

“You’re serious?” I asked. She smiled, shyly, the most un-Nesta-like look ever. I grabbed her arm. “No… oh my gosh, when?!”

“Just after Daisy was born, when you stayed here to help out and I went back to Japan. It wasn’t a big to-do or anything. Just a quiet ceremony on the base with one of the military officiants.”

“I can’t believe you did that!”

Nesta suddenly looked embarrassed again. I wasn’t used to seeing her so flummoxed, though I supposed it was normal for someone in love. Lucien and Elain did the same thing constantly, always tripping over their words and actions because their hearts couldn’t help what they were feeling.

“Do you think it was a mistake?”

“Shit no! I think it’s incredible! Nesta, you got flipping _married_. And mom has no idea?” I beamed at her when she didn’t deny it. “It’s fucking brilliant.”

At last, my sister grinned and the scarlet on her cheeks reached her ears. “Don’t tell anyone yet, please. I know it’s a lot to ask, but we’re going to have a proper reception later when Cass gets out of the military and we have the time to do things right.”

“I promise,” I said and latched my pinky with hers. “Sister swear. But I don’t get it. If you guys are married, why so forlorn tonight?”

Nesta lost her joy at once. “Because I can’t see myself having,” she gestured carelessly at the crowds away from us enjoying the food and dance, “all of this. People happy for me, talking about how they knew I’d end up with the love of my life. Fairytales are for people like Elain, people who smile at the sun just because they can. I’m not like that even if I often wish I could be.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“Wish you smiled at the sun.” Nesta quirked her brow. “I’m glad you’re exactly as you are. My fierce, deliberate, stern sister. The sun needs a moon, you know. Otherwise, the earth would just fall apart.”

“Maybe…”

“No. No maybe. _Definitely_. You’re perfect the way you are, Nessy. People like Elain, or Cassian, even Rhys, they can bring all the brightness the world needs. But you can’t sleep in that. You can’t find rest when you’re constantly awake. Sometimes you need some shade to lie in and cool down, to remember who you are and why that’s important. That’s what you are. You ground us all.”

Nesta’s chin grazed her shoulder on the opposite side from where I sat. I heard a sniffle before she turned back, one she’d never let me or anyone else see. “Thank you,” she said. I wound my arm through hers and rested my head against her shoulder.

“Anytime,” I replied.

Rhys could wait for his drink.


	24. Beyond the Stars, an Epilogue Part 2: Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriel. <3 This chapter is my everything.

_One Year Later_

Summer

\-----

~ Save the Date ~

 

We’re getting married!

 

Join us Thursday, August 1, 2019

at Yosemite National Park

to celebrate our love story.

 

Love,

 

Mor & Az

\------

“I can’t believe you and Az haven’t seen each other for an entire week.”

Mor was positively giddy in her seat behind the wheel of Az’s truck. Rhys and his dad were driving the boys up to the park together, an entire trailer hauling Mor’s wedding “essentials” behind them while I handled Maid of Honor duties with the bride.

“It’s tradition!” Mor squeaked. “The groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”

“Yeah, for like a day, if that.”

“Pish, posh. Az and I have lived together for four years now. I’m pretty a week won’t kill us. And besides, this needs to be special! We’re getting MARRIED tomorrow! Oh my gosh, I still can’t believe it.” Her arms stuck straight out as she gripped the wheel and bounced in her seat. “ _We are getting married tomorrow, it’s really happening.”_

“I know, I know,” I laughed. “Calm down!”

The number of times I’d heard her scream at me that she was getting married this past week had reached peak levels. Mor was over the moon. I had caught her staring down at the shimmering little diamond wrapped in gold sitting on her fourth finger no less than a dozen times over the last week as we’d prepped for the trip. She was already wearing her wedding day high heels, claiming she’d need to break them in so she wouldn’t trip on the rugged terrain we’d be facing. Yosemite had some great stretches of rock that overlooked half dome and all the valleys, so I was sure she’d find a smooth surface to perch on.

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised you guys waited so long to do this.”

For all her eager enthusiasm to get hitched, Mor shrugged me off. “Nah, it’s easier now that we’re done with school. No stress over classes and finals, study abroad trips or whatever. We can just focus on this moment before real world jobs close in and we hit the ground running.”

I gave her a look. “Oh come on, you can’t sit there and seriously tell me you wouldn’t have married Az the moment you turned 18 if you could have.”

Mor hesitated, but only just. “Well I mean, _sure_. Technically, it would have been great. But it’s always been slow moving with us and waiting just made sense. This is right for us.”

Ironic, the two people in all the world most perfectly fitted to one another had taken so long to put a ring on it.

“I’d be lying, though, if I said I wasn’t a total mess this week without him, Feyre.”

“Ah, ha. There it is.”

“Shut up, I’m a woman drunk on love. I’m allowed to be obnoxious about it. Because I’M GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW!”

She continued right on shouting, shouting and giggling and bouncing around. Thank the stars we were the only truck on this stretch of road and that Nesta had decided to sit this one out while Cass tagged along. Now that he was out of the military and doing private contract work for the government, his and Nesta’s schedule had become so much more flexible. And with Nesta back to teaching, my sister had become so much more normal (by her standards, anyway) like she was used to.

“What about you?”

“Huh?” I kicked my legs up on the dash and looked out at the passing trees and bright, open sky as we drove further and further into the mountains of California’s greatest treasure.

“When are you and Rhys gonna get married finally?”

“I don’t know.”

Now it was her turn to give me a look.

“Seriously! I don’t know. We haven’t really gotten there yet.”

“But you do think you will? I mean, no pressure. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you had to. I had just always sort of imagined Rhys would be the type to sweep you off your feet right away and marry you as fast as he could. And I know you had talked about it last year, right?”

I chuckled. “Rhys _would_ be the type, but I don’t know it’s complicated kind of.”

“Oh?”

Maybe it was less complicated than I liked to imagine it being. Mor was good at forcing me to be honest with myself. I just knew that up until now at least, it hadn’t been quite the time yet. My medication had ended up being an up and down ride over the first year and a half I was on it and once I was stable again, the idea of doing anything out of the norm scared me, like it might wreck everything suddenly. Rhys and I had sort of beat around the bush about it at Elain’s wedding, but that was it.

“Feyre?” Mor looked over and seemed to drive a little more cautiously. “I’m sorry. I hope you don’t think I’m trying to pressure you or anything with this. Did I-”

“No, no.” I waved her off immediately. “Absolutely not. It’s not that at all. I guess I just never really thought I’d even make it to this point.”

“What do you mean?” I wished I could wipe the worry off her face.

“I’ve spent so long trying to figure out what normal is supposed to be like that for a long time I never thought I’d get back to it in any form. I still struggle and have difficulties, nothing like before obviously, but enough that it never occured to me that… maybe I’m, like, okay enough again to think about doing all the things I always dreamed of.”

“Such as?” Mor’s voice lingered on, giving room for me to fill in the gaps. I fought back the butterflies rushing into my stomach as the image of me in a simple white dress, Rhys in a tux, candlelight around us while the stars kept watch overhead filtered into my mind… Was that a dream I wanted to see fulfilled? The warm sensation tingling in my toes told me a solid yes, yes it was.

“Hello!” A hand waved over my face and I jumped. “Earth to Feyre! Where did you go?”

I sank a little further into my seat and smiled. “I think I went to my wedding.”

Mor squealed and beamed at me. “Tell me everything!”

And so I did.

* * *

 

The spot Mor had scouted out for the ceremony, which would be led by Rhys’s dad as per Mor’s personal request, was close enough to a campsite that we were able to pull the truck in and not have to worry about an early morning hike that would absolutely ruin our clothes, hair, and makeup. The boys had all come up a few days early for a bachelor camping trip with Az, so tents were already pitched alongside one smaller sized trailer. I hadn’t been able to stop imagining Rhys running around half-naked with his brothers in the wild chasing birds and deer like some kind of wild animal pack ever since they’d told me their plans. I almost wouldn’t have put it past them to do it if not for the fact that his dad had gone with them and would have undoubtedly made them take it all a little more seriously than that.

Cell service was hard to come by in the park, which basically meant it was nonexistent. The plan was that the boys would have all the gear pitched and ready to go and would be out of our hair around the time we arrived. Mor and I would ditch the truck and steal the trailer while the boys stayed the night outside in the tents. We’d trade out in the morning until everyone was done getting ready and head up to the viewpoint in groups. Mor was insistent she wouldn’t see Az until then. A photographer was being paid to hike up early and capture it all in detail for her.

“There! There’s the trailer.”

“Shit, Cassian!” Mor slammed on the breaks, causing a horrid screech that made my skin crawl, and ducked down below the steering wheel as best she could. “Is Az there too? DO YOU SEE AZ?!”

“Calm down!” I rolled my window down and whistled. Cass’s head jerked up. He grinned like a bobcat with a plan of attack when he saw me and trailed over.

“What’s all this about?” Cass asked. “You look so lovely like that Mor, you should consider hiding your face more often.”

“Fuck you, Cassian,” Mor spat, the sound muffled from being all hunched over on herself. “Just tell me Az isn’t out there with you.”

“Okay. He’s not.”

“Cassian!!”

Cass roared with laughter. “If I’d known you’d be this easy to tease, I’d have made Az marry you ages ago. High school would have been way more fun.”

“Ha-ha,” she chided and did not sound pleased. “As if you didn’t get your jabs in enough.”

“Please, the number of times you-”

“Can we save it for tomorrow?” I interjected. “My back is killing me from sitting all damn day and I’d love to use a bathroom.”

“Fine, fine,” Cass said. “Az isn’t here. Rhys’s dad took him on a hike.”

Mor’s head whipped up in a hurry, eyes wide. “Alone? Rhys didn’t go with them?”

Cassian crossed his arms, looking smug. “Nope.”

“Oh my - _shit_ . You don’t think he’s pulling some macho, _I’ll kill you if you hurt my little girl_ , dad… uncle whatever, bullshit do you?”

Cassian leaned down against the window, running a hand over his face and scalp. In his oversized sweater that still somehow managed to fill out, he looked ruffled and goofy. Happy. “Nah,” he said and meant it. Mor stayed square. “Your uncle’s not the type.”

“I wouldn’t be quite so sure.”

Mor cut the engine and got out, Cassian rounding the truck to meet her on the other side. He wrapped his arm around her and I only just caught the tail end of their conversation as they walked off. “You know he wouldn’t. He’s not your mom and dad, Mor. He _likes_ Az. He likes you. Anyone who can make you of all people this tense and freaked out is bound to get a good grade from the guy.”

“I’m not tense and freaked out!”

“Sure.”

“I’m not.” Mor stopped walking and Cassian stepped in front her, all business. I suddenly wondered if I should have just stayed in the truck for this. Mor stared him down… and then gave in. “Thank you,” she said. “I needed that.”

“My pleasure.”

Mor stalked off to the trailer, though I noticed she still paused at the door and glanced around ensuring her beloved groom wasn’t about to jump out and spot her.

“You good, Feyre?” Cassian asked.

I looked at my friend, glad to have him back in our lives, our little family complete once more. “That depends,” I said. “You got the turkey sandwiches?”

“You know it.”

“Then yeah, I’m good.”

* * *

A dull buzzing hammering against the wood of my top trailer bunk woke me late in the night. Since the strict no peeking policy was still strongly in place, none of us had spent much time together in favor of keeping Mor and Az company in their respective hideouts. The partying could come tomorrow after they were married.

Squinting uncomfortably into the dark of the trailer, poorly lit with the lights off and no moonlight in sight, a horrible whiteness creeped out at me as my phone vibrated again.

_Rhys: SOS_

_Rhys: AZRIEL INCOMING_

_Rhys: Wait, why do I care?_

I nearly fell out of the bunk in my adrenaline rush to get to Mor and only held on at the last second. Sending out the emergency call when I was still half asleep had been a bad idea.

“Mor? _Pst_ , Mor!”

I managed to hold myself together enough to look at the bunk below me. It was empty. _Shit_. If she was up for the bathroom and saw Az coming, she was going to flip her lid. Absolutely no bad luck on her wedding day. As maid of honor, I was gonna make sure of it. Rhys may not have cared in the end, but I sure as hell did.

With a dull thump, I jumped straight down from my bunk and found the bathroom also vacant. Panic started to take over as I reached the little sliding door separating the sleeping quarters from the front of the trailer. It was already open a jar, enough that I heard hushed, hurried whispers on the other side.

Looking out through the little sliver left open to me, I saw Mor perched on the small stair set leading down to the trailer door. Panic renewed with vigor when I saw that it was open, though maybe only an inch. Mor kept her hand firmly on the handle, keeping it close in her white silk robe with “Bride” written on the back in fancy, bejewelled script.

_“What are you doing?”_

_“I just wanna see you,”_ I heard Az say on the other side of the door, a decent amount of insistantness coming off him. “ _Just five minutes._ ”

_“Az, no. We can’t!”_

A soft chuckle. _“Ah, Morrigan. Please?”_ I’d rarely heard him sound so pleading.

Mor sighed, conflict written all over her face. The way she inhaled tightly, the way her fingers clutched the little knob, the way her eyes bore holes into the door as though she might move the window blinds aside and catch more than a glimpse of Az’s shadowed form behind.

_“No. I don’t wanna break tradition. But maybe…”_

_“Maybe?”_

_“You could hold my hand? If you want.”_

_“That’s all I’ve_ ever _wanted, Mor.”_

I could practically hear Mor’s heart pounding in her chest as she stood and stepped down to the last step. I didn’t have the heart to make myself stop her, not after that. _“Five minutes,”_ she said softly, sounding as though she very much wanted more. Az’s roughened, scarred hand slid into view, just barely, and pulled the door a fraction wider before she stopped him. _“Not too much!”_

 _“Never,”_ he said. _“Promise. You can trust me.”_

_“Duh, that’s why I’m marrying you._

Yet, she was nervous. I could tell. Her hand shook as it passed into that open space between the barrier separating them and slowly, gracefully slid into Az’s grasp. A smooth, tantalizing dance unfolded. Every new touch, every new move brought fresh emotion to her face. Mor leaned forward, her head resting against that curtain veiling Az from sight and stared down at where they connected. It was hard to watch, an intimate moment I wasn’t meant to witness. Two people holding hands. You would have thought they were making love with how tender it was.

And then Az whispered, his voice low and rough, closer than ever before. _“Morrigan,”_ he whispered. Mor closed her eyes, her lips settling into a soft expression of ease and care. _“My Morrigan. I’ve missed you, love.”_

_“I’ve missed you too, Az. But soon, we won’t have to ever again.”_

I dragged myself away from the door. It was too much and I’d feel guilty to keep intruding. Neither of them would have wanted me to there to witness the private, secret stolen moment they both deserved.

_Feyre: It’s fine. They’re just talking. No looking._

_Rhys: Phew._

He didn’t need to know about the hand holding. My mind, slipping back toward sleep now that my head was back on my pillow, was now very much preoccupied.

_Rhys: I’m going back to sleep. See you at the altar tomorrow morning. ;)_

_Feyre: Don’t you mean cliff?_

_Rhys: You know what I mean._

_Feyre: Wait._

_Feyre: Don’t go just yet._

_Rhys: ?_

_Feyre: I’ve been thinking._

_Rhys: Getting sleepy. What are you thinking about?_

I was thinking… that when I looked at Mor and Az together, whether they were twirling on the dance floor or barely even touching, I wanted the same love and adoration that was between them. That I didn’t want to risk living one day without it any longer. That what Mor had told me in the truck on the way up had struck a chord in me, a change. That I was whole and well and good now. That I was ready.

I was thinking that I loved Rhys and I wanted nothing more than to do something about it.

_Feyre: I’m ready._

_Rhys: Hmm?_

_Feyre: Rhys._

_Feyre: I think I’m ready to talk about getting married with you._

No reply came this time.

_Feyre: Rhys? Did you fall asleep?_

Still no answer. I fell asleep wondering if even though I was ready finally, maybe Rhys no longer was.

* * *

At 8am exactly, I jumped out of bed and found Mor sleepily waking up below me. “I’m gonna let the boys in front to get ready. Absolutely no peeking, you’ve had enough!”

Mor panicked and I rushed out, closing the sliding door before she could wonder how much I’d heard or seen of her midnight rendezvous. With a determined air about me, I stepped outside into the crisp morning air and set off for the boy’s tents. Despite the lingering cool in the air, the skies were clear and the sun was rising fast and full. It would be a gloriously sunny day.

Cass was already up cooking over a campfire. Bacon briefly distracted me and I almost lost my focus.

“Morning,” Cass said as I approached, holding a plate of freshly cooked strips, perfectly crisp and browned, out to me. I ruffled his head, glad to see his hair growing back in longer now that he wasn’t keeping up with military regulations. “Want some?”

“Love to.” I took a bite and pointed at him with the remainder. “You’re on guard duty this morning. Get Az in and out of the trailer in as little time as possible before Mor loses her shit.”

“She wouldn’t-”

“She already did!” Cassian blinked up at me, surprised, and gave me a salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”

“That’s what I like to hear, soldier.” I bit off more bacon and saw Az stick his head out of his tent. “Az!”

“I know, I know,” he said through a yawn. “Move out.”

“Aye, aye.”

“We’re Army, Feyre. Not Navy,” Cass chided.

“Whatever. Just ship out, fly out, march out - get moving.”

“When did she turn into Mor?” I heard Cass ask Az as the bacon plate was passed off again and I walked away.

“Sometime while I was in Italy, I think,” Az replied.

I paused outside the last tent, not really sure if I wanted to go in or not. The decision was made for me right when I had been about to change my mind and turn back. “Morning, darling.” The cloth unzipped and Rhys stuck his head out, his hair a mop of dark, inky mess. And his eyes - they were lazy underneath his droopy lids. His lips parted, a sleepy smile greeting me. I melted.

“Good morning,” I said, bending down to steal a quick kiss. “Did you, um, get my text last night?”

Rhys hissed. “I might have. I’m sorry I didn’t text you back. I fell asleep halfway through replying.”

“Of course you did.” I rolled my eyes in amusement. Inside, I was so relieved he hadn’t simply bailed on me. Rhys quickly reached out and grabbed the back of my neck, not letting me leave.

“We’ll talk about it later? After we get out of Mor’s wedding madness?”

Up close, his eyes were more earnest, more awake. And in them, I saw so much worry. Worry I’d change my mind and say no? Or worry I might get hurt? I couldn’t tell. “Deal,” I agreed.

It ended up taking Mor and I close to two hours to finish everything. The photographer arrived halfway through doing Mor’s hair and I was grateful because it allowed me to take a step back and get my own hair down while some of the documenting got done. Makeup was next and by then, the photographer had taken off to snap some photos of the boys outside before they made the short hike up to our final destination.

A knock at the door. “I’m back,” the gal called, friendly and chipper. “Everyone’s headed up. You two ready to step out?”

I opened the door. “They’re gone?” She nodded with a bright smile. “Perfect. Mor! Let’s go.”

“Just a minute!”

“We’ll be out in a sec,” I told the girl and went back to check on Mor, who’d slid back into the sleeping quarters ten minutes ago to put on her dress. She should have been done by now. “Hey, you okay in there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? It doesn’t exactly sound like it.”

 _Not again_ , I thought. I didn’t want to give another _trust me, Az loves you_ pep talk like I had with Lucien at Disney. Surely after what I’d seen last night, Mor had no doubts?

And then, she laughed. A bright, bubbly noise. “I’m fine, I swear, I just…” A gasp broke the words apart and the little separator slid open as Mor jumped out in a flurry. “I’m so _happy_ , Feyre.” She promptly broke into tears - a thousand merry, eager tears.

“Oh, no!” I was laughing, unable to help it. “Oh my gosh, your makeup!”

“I know, I know! I’m such a fucking mess, of course.”

“You are not a mess,” I said dabbing at her eyes with a tissue to stop the mascara from bleeding down her cheeks.

“Ugh, yes I am.” Mor grabbed her makeup bag and pulled out some foundation and powder to reblot her face where some of the redness had come through and I got my first real look at her. No veil. Hair flowing loosely down her back in waves, nothing more than a simple golden crown of wires and beads around her head to hold it all together. Her lips were her usual fabulous red, a neutral palette adorning her eyes. And her dress - delicate lace that hugged her body close in thin pieces that swept down and stopped just at the floor so it wouldn’t get too dirty in the grass and dirt. She looked stunning.

“You’re gorgeous,” I said. Mor’s little pocket mirror snapped shut and when she looked at me, eyes radiant and alive, she beamed.

Together, hand in hand, we stepped outside the trailer and immediately our sweet photographer started snapping pics. The full sunlight hit Mor and she practically glowed. “Absolutely, drop dead gorgeous.” I couldn’t help but repeat it as I stepped back to see her raise her head and bask in the glow of the sun. “Az is gonna die when he sees you.”

“I hope not!” she said. “I need to marry the poor sap first, haha.”

I snatched our small bouquets we’d brought with us, packed tightly with simple red roses and greenery, and handed Mor hers, which was slightly larger than my own. “Then let’s get to it.”

At once, that wistful teary look crept back and Mor stilled before grabbing me into a hug that almost smashed our bouquets. “Thank you for being here,” she said, arms wrapped tight around my shoulders. I held on with everything I had, so grateful to even be the main gal in this woman’s life. “I couldn’t have done all of this without you. You’re my best friend, Feyre. Just… thank you.”

My own eyes stung, the depth of emotion catching me off guard. “I love you, girl. Let’s get you married.”

She pulled back with another trademark squeak that had her bouncing up and down, and I heard the photographer rapidly clicking her camera. I couldn’t wait to see photos of this moment weeks down the road.

We laughed the entire trip up, tripping over ourselves more than our dresses, enjoying the memories old and new. We waited until we reached the flat even surface of stone that would take us out to the cliffs before I helped Mor put her heels on. I opted to stay in my flats, my own red colored dress a little shorter in length than Mor’s could take it. The photographer went out ahead of us so she could capture the first moments Az would see her and then, it was time.

“You ready?” I asked. Mor nodded and almost started crying. “No, not again!” I laughed and she batted my hand away.

“I’m good, no more tears. Just happy. Really, really happy.”

I beamed at her and turned her round. “Go get your man, babe.”

Mor stepped out of the shadow of the trees, myself right behind her. As soon as she saw Az standing several feet away from us, his back turned as he faced the wide open valleys and peaks beyond the cliffside, her breath caught. Rhys and Cass stood off to one side with Rhys’s dad. They spotted Mor and each of them had a different reaction that was heartwarming to see. Rhys gave his cousin a nod, proud and fond. Cassian turned his attention straight to Az ready to see his brother’s reaction and give him hell for it. And Rhys’s dad looked like he might cry. I wondered what he was thinking as he watched Mor step closer and closer, gathering speed as she went. She never once looked away from Az.

Everything that came next felt like watching a romantic movie happen in slow motion. Mor reached Az. There was a touch on his shoulder and his head immediately dropped forward, visibly shaken at having her so close. I grabbed Rhys and held his hand tight as Mor fell against Az’s back, eyes shut. She took a deep inhale as Az brought her hands around his chest and kissed them each. Then they were turning, turning, turning and seeing every detail, all the little things they’d been longing for over the past week, what we all knew had really been a lifetime. My mind flashed back to that day I’d seen him tutoring her at Rhys’s, how upset she’d been that he might not take her to the dance when we went camping before crawling inside his tent and dragging him to her, the way they’d spent all of college together thick as thieves.

My heart lurched as Az bent toward his bride and kissed her cheek. Rhys noticed how my body had stilled, and tucked me safely under his arm. “Soon,” he whispered down to me. “Soon.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off Mor and Az as emotions I’d never experienced welled inside of me. It was strangely isolating and exhilarating at the same time, to be both so envious and so happy for them at the same moment. What if it were Rhys and I? What if I’d been in white, the one making this walk towards the man of my life?

Az whispered things to Mor none of us could hear. She smiled and cried and laughed in return. And then Rhys’s dad stepped forward. I took Mor’s bouquet and watched my best friends get married under the beautiful forest sunlight. No one shined brighter that day than Morrigan when Azriel slid the ring on her finger and kissed her true.

* * *

Rhys waited to talk to me until we got in the truck and were on our way to the much more comfortable cabins we’d rented for the remainder of the week. Now that the no looking policy was officially ditched, we were all looking forward to real beds and bathrooms. It had taken us until well after dark to make the move. The photographer stayed all through the short ceremony and for about an hour afterward, just long enough to get photos of all of us celebrating together and cutting a small, simple cake back at the trailer that had been kept in the mini fridge. The rest of the day had been saved for dancing, laughter, and magic around the evening campfire. Mor was a goner as soon as Cass dug out the marshmallows and graham crackers.

“How are you doing?” He grabbed my hand and kissed it before holding it firmly in his lap. The campsite wasn’t far from the cabins, so it’d be a roughly short drive.

“I’m a little more upset than I thought I’d be,” I admitted. “But I’m happy for her. For both of them.”

“Yeah, me too.” Rhys smiled and turned the car to a winding dirt road on the right. Dim lights twinkled quite a ways in the distance. “I’m glad it was like this too, just us. Her parents have never really made amends. I think it would have spoiled the day.”

I leaned over and rested against him, hoping it wouldn’t impede his driving. “Sometimes family is a choice, not what you’re given.”

“And you? What do you choose, Feyre?”

I took a deep, measured breath to steady myself and found him glancing down at me every now and then, a curious expression lingering. “I choose _you_.”

Rhys smiled and gave my hand a squeeze. “I’m _so_ glad to hear it.”

“So… what now? Does this mean we’re-”

“Do you want it to?”

“I don’t know?”

Rhys chuckled and took another turn, this time the road curled to the right. “What’s holding you back? Something’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours that I’m not seeing.”

“I’m just scared, I guess. I don’t know how this works out. I’m still in London with the museum. You know I don’t want to leave. But you’re still figuring out school. If you have to stay in New York for law school, how are we gonna keep this up?”

“Do you see my jacket in the back?”

I blinked. “Uh, I don’t know. Is that really important right now?”

“Just trust me.”

With a bit of a groan I tried to stifle, I reached in the back seat and groped around until I caught Rhys’s suit jacket. We’d all agreed tuxes were a little formal for this wedding and gone for clean, simple suits on the boys instead.

“Check the inside pocket,” Rhys instructed. I dug in until I found a folded sheet of paper. I held it up and Rhys nodded. “Open it.”

“Hang on, I need a light.”

Finding my clutch sitting at my feet, I snatched up my cell and hit the flashlight. Brightness illuminated the truck and the piece of paper, which turned out to be an email Rhys seemed to have printed out recently. I read the first line and my mouth fell open. Hope welled up inside of me threatening to break me wide open, all the emotions of earlier rushing back to the surface.

Rhys was already laughing next to me, excited at my reaction. “You wanna read it out loud?” he asked.

“I don’t think I can.” My hands shook on the paper. “Is this really happening? When did this happen?” I couldn’t read the time stamp on the email to check for myself.

“Got it last week. I wanted to surprise you with it, so I saved it for the trip. I figured you’d be less stressed out here than you are at home with work. Plus, it was worth it to see that look on your face.”

“But this means you’ll be in London with me! I thought you didn’t get in?”

Rhys cringed and looked away guilty. “Actually, they waitlisted me. I didn’t tell you in case it didn’t pan out.” He slid his gaze carefully over to mine. “I hope you’re not mad.”

“I can’t believe you - _oh_ , no I’m not mad. I’m, I’m…” Rhys pulled over and parked, waiting with anticipation. “I’m so excited! This is everything I could have ever asked for. You’re really serious? Is this real?” The paper shook as I held it to him.

I threw myself at him and realized as his citrusy scent engulfed me that never would I have to go without it again. Rhys was coming to London for grad school. We could get a flat together. Come home together at the end of the day. _Wake up together_. We could live as one. Which meant-

“So are we gonna do it? Do you wanna get married?”

I bit my lip and clutched at his face, trying not to shake. “Yes. Just maybe not quite yet? I wanna make it official when the moment’s right. And you still have so much school left. And oh my gosh, we have to get you moved in!”

Rhys considered and then slowly agreed. “Okay. We’ll wait. As long as we both acknowledge… that’s the direction we’re heading in?”

“Yes,” I said. The word struck me in entirely new ways that had me grinning ear to ear. “Yes, I think so. I think… _Rhys_.”

Rhys met my lips with fervor, our love colliding and twisting into something brand new. When I left the truck that night to head inside, I was a woman reborn.


	25. Beyond the Stars, an Epilogue Part 3: Autumn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nessian <3

_That Same Year_

Autumn

\-----

You are cordially invited to join us for a reception dinner

in honor of the nuptials of

Nesta & Cassian,

Saturday, October 26th, 2019

at the New York City Public Library.

 

Formal Attire

\-----

Walking up the marble staircase of the New York City Library was the easily the most nerve wracking experience of my life. Nesta’s wedding reception was intimidating _as fuck_.

For not having had a formal wedding ceremony once they’d come clean with everyone, much to the outrage of Cassian’s parents who malented their loss of a grand wedding with full military honors for their son, they sure had pulled out all the stops for their reception gala. Once up the enormous staircase, a rich ballroom full of luxury and opulence greeted me. Military decor including a sea of flags lined neatly against the left side wall led us into the crowds, at the front of which stood my eldest sister and her groom.

For her part, Nesta looked like an actual queen standing next to Cassian, who wore his formal military garb complete with full regalia. But it was Nesta who easily stole the spotlight standing in her satin dress of dark midnight blue. The bodice fit tightly at her bust and waist in a gathering of fabric that looked like it belonged in an old Hollywood film before sprawling out in a large open skirt that fell to the floor. Her hair had been swept artfully up and though she wore very little makeup, the thin twinkling diadem nested in her hair more than made up for it. I almost curtsied as Rhys and I reached the pair, my mom and Cass’s parents standing just on the other side greeting the guests in front of us. Mom, for once, looked nervous and out of place.

Nesta was pretty happily at ease when I reached over to hug her. The fact that she let me seemed like a good indication that her tight lipped approach was only a half-truth of how her night was going.

“Congrats, sis,” I said trying to loosen up. Nesta was just so gorgeous. The whole _room_ was damn gorgeous. “Cassian!”

I swapped spots with Rhys and saw him lean in to kiss Nesta’s cheek, lingering to whisper something. She nodded when he pulled back.

“You alright, Fey?” Cassian asked me. He looked unrivaled in his military uniform, by far the handsomest man in the room to stand next to his wife. I wondered vaguely how many people here realized they’d married over a year ago.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little…” I glanced around, a huge crystal chandelier larger than my apartment hung from the hand painted ceiling above, “overwhelmed, I guess.”

Cass laughed and helped me scoot along. “The bar’s up front,” he told me and I chuckled, wishing I had more time to stay with my sister and ask how she was holding up under all the scrutiny, if this was the celebration she’d always hoped people would want for her. More guests prevented that from happening.

“Wanna dance?” Rhys asked me, pulling me back to him. “Or champagne first?”

“Fuck, is it that obvious?”

Rhys fed me a cheeky smirk and patted my back. “You’re doing fine. You look _splendid_. And I already smoozed your mom over so she won’t even mind that you didn’t say hi to her.”

“Oh - mom!”

“It’s okay, she’s busy. Don’t even worry about it.”

Sure enough, glancing over my shoulder, mom was deep in conversation with the next batch of guests. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight. I think I’ll take that drink now.”

“You’re sure everything’s okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I’ll go find us something.”

I didn’t give Rhys’s skepticism a chance to argue as I dashed off and wove through the tables, all of them draped in a fine silk linen of creams and golds. Terrariums full of succulents sat at the center of the tables alongside candles and decadently folded napkins. I was too scared for the cost to see how fancy the silverware would be.

“What’ll it be, miss?” I froze, hung up on the casual _miss_ the bartender had just thrown at me. I really was a miss, though. Not a _mrs_. Just a miss.

“I’ll have a champ - um, vodka martini?”

“Dirty?”

“No thank you.”

A minute later I had my drink. Two minutes later it was nearly gone and I was preparing myself to order another when I remembered I hadn’t gotten Rhys the drink I’d promised. Just as I spun back around toward the bar, another voice cut in front of me first. “Whatever she’s having,” Lucien said, nodding over at me, “and a Shirley Temple. Make it a big one.”

“Shirley Temple? What happened to shitty coffee, Lukey. Not your style anymore?”

“Hardly.” Lucien propped himself up against the counter waiting for his drinks to pop up. “It’s for the Mrs.” I followed his gaze and saw Elain talking animatedly with a group of mutual friends from school she and Nesta shared. Her gold sequin dress was form fitting, perfectly showing off the small swell of her belly that had started showing only a few weeks ago.

“But of course.” Lucien had a hard time tearing his eyes away from his blushing wife. It seemed to me like only yesterday they’d gotten married and now here they were patiently awaiting baby number two. “Where’s Daisy?”

“Stayed back in California with my parents for the weekend. Didn’t seem right to bring her and Elain’s morning sickness has been horrid this go.”

“Was the first time too if I remember correctly. She’ll get there.”

“Indeed she will.” Lucien grabbed his drinks and paused at my shoulder. “You alright?”

A storm of air blew out of me as I stamped my foot in frustration. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

Lucien cocked his head. “Really, Fey?”

“Go tend to my sister.” I threw in a shove for good measure, got Rhys’s drink, and was on my way, Lucien looking horribly smug as he went.

Guilt ripped into me anew when I saw him swoop in and pluck a kiss on Elain’s pink lips that left her looking warm and happy. I should have gone and said hi to her. I hadn’t had the chance, Rhys’s and my’s flight had gotten in far too late last night. Now it felt too late and awkward to turn around in the middle of all those tables and go back, as if people would notice my obvious gaffe. What the hell was wrong with me tonight?

Lost in my thoughts, I almost spilled my drink all over Rhys who’d caught up to me in the crowd. “Whoa, everything okay, darling?”

“Yeah, fine.” The words had more sting than I’d intended.

Rhys’s face fell. “I wasn’t sure I needed to be so serious in asking, but now-”

“Now what?”

I waited, heart beating faster and faster in the worst way, for Rhys to respond. Instead he just looked at me brow furrowed. “Feyre?”

“Here.” I handed him the glass of champagne I’d ordered knowing he’d prefer it over a cocktail. He was so obnoxiously fancy when he had the chance. The fact that I found myself calming down as I recalled such an extraneous detail about my - boyfriend? Fiance? - had me annoyed. “We should sit, they’re gonna start the toasts soon.”

“Alright, let’s-”

“No, I don’t wanna sit with them.” I tossed my head back to look at Lucien and Elain, far too happy. I suddenly couldn’t bare the thought of sitting with my family and pretending I was okay. I didn’t even understand what was going on. Rhys scowled, only concerned, not angry. That just pissed me off more.

“Feyre, what’s wrong?”

I shook my head, skin crawling with heat. “Nothing, I just… I think I need some air. Will you take this for me?” I held up my drink, barely a drop left. Rhys looked reluctant. The lights dimmed signaling the start of the evening’s speeches and formal dances. My head spun.

“I can come with you if you-”

“No, just give me a minute. I’ll be fine, I just need… a minute.” I dashed away, leaving Rhys looking after me with what I was certain was a bewildered expression. “A minute. I just need a minute.” I repeated it over and over to myself, hoping no one really noticed as I rushed by.

I burst through the first set of doors I could find, the thought of going down all those elegant marble steps again unbearable. A small patio greeted me looking out over the city streets, dark yet somehow alive and vibrant under the street lamps. My dress was sleeveless, a mistake for New York in mid-October. Had I not been close to crying, I might have gone back and asked Rhys for his jacket.

Only, I couldn’t go back. And why was I suddenly so close to tears?

_Oh no, please no. Not now, not here._

I stumbled to the railing and clutched feebly at the stone. It was hard and unyielding, but the cold resting inside it kept me awake enough to sit myself down on the concrete below. Deep breaths. One, two, three… I counted until a touch rested lightly on my shoulder, jolting me awake.

“Sorry!” Lucien jumped back. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Without asking, Lucien sat next to me.

“You’re gonna… ruin your… your tux,” I said. He shrugged.

“Guess I’ll just match you then.” He nodded at where I sat in my gown. “It pays to set trends.”

“What are you… doing here?” Every word was a struggle to get out.

“Rhys asked me to check on you. Said you needed some air?” Lucien scrutinized me. My chest heaved. “To be honest, you look like you could use a little more than air.” He went for his jacket pocket and I managed to hold my clutch up instead.

“Inside.”

Lucien undid the clasp - “How do you girls get these things open?!” - and dug out a small discreet silver container, round with cherries painted on the front. “This?”

“Yeah, just give me one.”

“Did you remember to take your meds today?” Lucien handed me the pill, meant for panic attacks like the one I was having now, a separate dose I’d gotten from my regular prescription when the attacks hadn’t subsided after my initial treatments for depression. The last one had been over a year ago when I’d started the London job and the water line in my new apartment burst the day I moved in. This time when Lucien handed me a pill to help me calm down, I took it without thought.

“I did, but with the flight... and my sleep schedule getting interrupted… crappy airline food, I think I’m a little off.”

Lucien put my purse back together again for me and set the little beaded clutch in my lap before resting back against the patio barrier. “You wanna talk about it?”

The door to the library hadn’t quite closed. If I squinted hard enough, I could just make out the tables through the sliver of doorway still open and see the guests merrily listening along to whomever was at the mic praising the bride and groom. Or roasting them to death, whichever. It still didn’t make sense to me.

I shrugged, wishing I had my drink back to wash the pill down better with. It felt a little raw going down my throat. “I don’t know what happened. I was fine until we got here and then the second I saw everyone, all the crowds… I started to lose it. I can’t explain it.”

“You think it’s too stuffy in there? Too claustrophobic for you?”

No, that wasn’t it. Hearing him say it made it painfully clear to me that the people in that room were only half the real problem. It was something to do with what it all represented. When Elain had gotten married, I’d simply been relieved to feel back to myself again that nothing had felt strange about attending my sister’s wedding. And when it was Mor’s turn, I was caught up in the delight of it all that I had gotten a little drunk on the moment almost agreeing to marry Rhys. _Almost_.

That’s when it hit me. Rhys and I had said we wanted to get married and I’d held off. No official engagement. No date. Just wait and see. And now here we were at another wedding and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why I’d told him to wait.

Not only that, I’d just pushed the love of my life away in my inability to process the situation.

“Ugh,” I groaned. “I think I’ve made a mistake.”

Lucien chuckled. “You’re good with those.”

“Ha. Don’t start, Lukey.”

“How long do you wanna stay out here?”

“That depends. Does Nesta realize I’ve gone?”

“She may have noticed.”

Another groan. “Then I need fifteen more minutes at least.”

“I told Rhys I’d let him know you were okay in ten.”

I waved at him and continued to stare ahead. “Just text him. Tell him… ugh, fuck. Tell him I’ll be there in a bit and that I’m okay and that I love him.”

“Okay, but I’m using your phone. Even if I say it’s from you, texting Rhys _I love you_ just feels weird.”

I grinned as Lucien took my clutch back to find my phone and closed my eyes, enjoying the lovely night breeze kissing my freckled skin. Thank the stars for Lucien and I were friends again.

* * *

 

The speeches went on and on for an hour. Luckily, thanks to my mini freakout, I missed almost half of it and still got to see the best parts: Azriel giving a dutiful best man’s speech, Elain being typically hormonal and emotional in front of everyone as maid of honor, and Cassian moving the crowd near to tears with his ardent adoration of his wife. Even Nesta went misty listening to him wax poetic over her.

I was happy for her. No one ever so openly admitted affection for Nesta the way Cassian did. She deserved the love he gave her so freely. Every woman did.

Rhys held my hand most of the hour we sat lifting our glasses and raising toasts. After I’d reassured him I was fine and had just been thinking over some things seeing my big sister get married, he’d calmed down. Though, I noticed he kept fidgeting off and on, his further hand sitting in his pocket when it wasn’t raising his champagne with the crowd.

When the last speech had ended - Cassian’s, to thunderous applause as he kissed Nesta in front of everyone in a way sure to make her embarrassed - Rhys got up and promised to be back in a moment. Bathroom break apparently. I had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t quite true. Nesta noticed him walking off and took his seat when she made it back to our table. Only Nesta was able to pull off ignoring everyone after such a kiss with Cassian to narrow in on me at everyone else’s expense.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” She appraised me with a wary eye. “Sister swear.”

“What’s _his_ problem?” Her head inclined in the direction Rhys had gone. My heart lurched. Even after all these years, Nesta would always be the one looking out for me.

“I’m not sure. Just a little jittery, I guess.”

“You left earlier. Why?” I blanched and tried to take a sip of my drink. Nesta caught me first. “Why?” It wasn’t a polite request.

I set my drink down heavily. “I got kind of freaked out earlier. About… wedding stuff.”

“You freaked out about my wedding?”

“Not exactly.” I checked to make sure Rhys wasn’t done in the bathroom and on his way back before I went on. “Rhys and I sort of decided we’re ready for the next step.”

“Be a grown up and just say it or don’t bother at all. You want to get married.”

“Yes, Nesta, geez. We decided we want to get married.”

“So what’s the problem?”

I looked down at my right hand, where I kept the ring Rhys had given me our last year of high school. The one that had belonged to his sister. I imagined it changing into a new ring, one that was simpler. It didn’t even need a real stone so long as it was mine and mine alone. And preferably sitting on my other hand.

“The problem is that I might have mucked it up and told him I wanted to wait and now I have no idea why. I want this, all of this. Not the huge freaking Kardashian affair we’re having here.” Nesta glowered and I carried on before she could snap at me. “Just that. What you had up there with Cassian. I know I have it already in my own way, but for some reason I never thought the ceremony bit was important. Or even the engagement. Maybe I was wrong.

“Do I tell him I changed my mind? Do I tell him I want to get engaged sooner? We haven’t talked about it in weeks since it was all first agreed.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and sank back flippantly in her seat. “Is that really all, Feyre?” I stared at her.

“Is that all? You could be a little more sensitive, Nesta. I’m only talking about the biggest fucking decision of my life.”

She snorted and gave me a hard stare. “You really want to marry him? You’re sure? No more waffling.”

With Nesta, I could be honest. With Nesta, I had to be. No more funny business. No more questioning or wondering. Only _me_. “Yes.”

“Huh, well there you go then.”

And then she left. Got up and walked away as though we’d never talked. “What… just happened?” I hadn’t expected anyone to hear me when Cassian answered.

“We don’t question Nesta,” he said. “Lesson number one.”

“You’re a good man, Cassian. A very good man.”

* * *

 

Nesta didn’t come back for nearly fifteen minutes. Rhys was nowhere to be found either. Cassian and Lucien did their best to make sure I didn’t worry and stayed right where I was. _They’ll be back any minute! Stop worrying so much! Enjoy the night!_ All of this and more filled my ears while a mild wine filled my throat with plenty of refills on hand courtesy of Mor, and the minutes ticked by.

When at long last one of them did appear, it was with a sharp, unexpected pull on my wrist that nearly knocked my champagne flute over almost ruining my dress. “Get up,” Nesta said. “Now.”

“What the hell?!”

“ _Now_ , Feyre. There isn’t enough time for you to worry about spilled milk.”

“The expression is to _cry_ over spilled-”

“Feyre, damn it come on.” She dragged me out of my seat. I looked around at all my friends and family that had been seated next to me expecting help. None of them so much as even looked up.

“Where the hell are we going?”

“Shut up and just follow.”

“Nesta!”

She led me to an offshoot of the ballroom I hadn’t seen, to a quiet, inconspicuous door in back that some of the kitchen staff flitted in and out of. And then further back still to another door guarding a tiny, cramped stairwell. Up we went. Up, and up, and up until finally we reached a door. No windows. No other halls. Just a door.

“Are you going to explain what the blazes we’re doing here?”

Nesta barred my access to whatever waited behind her. “You meant what you said, right?”  
“What?”

“Earlier. About Rhys? I can’t tell you what we’re doing here if you’re not sure. I wanna make sure this is what you really want. Feyre-” She grabbed my shoulders and it was my serious big sister staring down at me, the one who had fought for me when I hadn’t been looking. My friend. My protector. “Do you love him?”

“Yes, but what has that got to do with-”

“I said to shut up.” I scowled. What she did next surprised me most of all. Nesta, gently, pulled me into her arms. “I love you, Feyre. Just be happy.” I found myself relaxing into her embrace.

“I am happy, Nessy.”

“Good.”

She stepped away and made to pass me on the narrow staircase, leaving me utterly confused. “Why?” I called out to her when she reached the last step before she would disappear.

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t you asking me if Rhys loves me back? Isn’t that the big sister thing to do?”

Nesta’s lips spread into a slow, knowing smile. “Oh Feyre. You silly little girl. Remember what I said.”

And then she was gone with no other explanation.

I faced the door and turned the handle, my skin already pricking from the night breeze that graced my naked shoulders as I stepped forward. Apparently, I’d missed the huge sign that was meant to alert me this was the roof access entry door. I never would have guessed looking at it just then.

Every spare bit of the roof’s ground as I walked up the last few stairs was covered in dozens of candles. The little lights flickered brightly in the dark city, paving a path forward to where Rhys stood. Hands still tucked firmly in his pockets, a nervous wiggle of his leg still in place, I gaped at him, unable to move forward.

“What…” I gasped, words failing me as I took in all the candles. “What is this?”

Rhys smiled, tightly. “I know you said you wanted to wait to make it official, but I couldn’t resist.”

Everything was silent. The only noise I could distinguish was my chest where a steady beat had turned erratic. The breeze picked up, pulling the ends of my dress forward as if lurring me toward Rhys. Finding my own breath again, I followed. Rhys’s eyes snapped shut as his head bowed when I reached him. He rocked back on his feet. I couldn’t help but to chuckle a little, he was so rarely this out of sorts. It suddenly made sense why he’d been on edge all through the dinner toasts. I’d freaked out for nothing.

 _Nesta helped him plan this_ , I realized. Joy fluttered across my soul.

“Are you going to be alright?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. His entire body went still. It was as if I could see the calm settle over him. “Feyre,” he said, my name falling soft and sweet from his lips. A warm touch graced my cheek making me forget all about the earlier chill. “You are the most important person I have ever known. You are wise beyond your years. You are talented beyond comparison. And you are braver than even I knew you could be. You make me _yearn_ , Feyre, for something more in this life. And you make me think it’s possible to find whatever that is.”

My throat burned, his words turning my mouth hot and raw with the agony of the moment. It was nearly unbearable, though in a much sweeter way that brought me pleasure than when I’d lost myself on the balcony earlier.

“I feel those things too,” I said, worried my interrupting him might throw him off. He let me go on curious what I might say. “I’ve felt them since the moment you met me. You’ve shown me compassion and understanding when I needed it most. And more than anyone, you’ve had faith in me that I could do _anything_ I ever wanted.” For a moment, I got lost in his violet eyes pouring into me with their starry depths, more beautiful than the stars above us on that rooftop. Just then, I understood exactly what Rhys made me want. “I love you, Rhysand. So very much.”

Slowly, cautiously, Rhys leaned forward and our lips hesitated the briefest of moments before meeting smoothly. It was the only part of us to meet, yet it somehow felt more intimate than any of the numerous times we’d collided over the years. Every heartbeat, every look, every touch was poured into that one simple kiss witnessed only by the firelight shimmering softly beside us.

When we broke apart, the feline grin I loved to tease so much met my view. Rhys finally took his remaining hand out of his pocket and produced a plain, black velvet box, small enough to house a promise inside. He knelt and opened the lid.

“Feyre Archeron,” Rhys said. “Love of my life. My friend, my companion, my mate in every way. Will you marry me?”

The ring was perfect. A simple silver band with a few small diamond stones set flatly in it. Nothing flashy. Entirely elegant. It was old-fashioned and timeless, just as our love had always been. My hands shook as I struggled to know what to do with them.

_“Yes!”_

Rhys sprang up and kissed me hard, our arms wrapping around each other as he scooped me up and twirled me about until I was lifted above him. All I saw was a swirl of firelight, the black sea above, and _him_. My Rhys.

“This,” Rhys said, setting me down and slipping the band out of the box, “was my mother’s engagement ring. I’d like to get you something that’s just for you, but I think for now, she’d want you to have it.”

I stared down admiring the simplicity of the setting, melting at Rhys’s every word. There was no way in the world I could ever want to wear anything else now that I knew what this ring meant to him. What it could mean to both of us. “No, it’s perfect,” I told him. “I’d be honored to wear it.”

And so, Rhys slipped the ring onto my left hand, fourth finger. It fit me beautifully. I flexed my hands admiring - one ring for his mom, one for his sister. Now we could have them both with us always. “Did you plan this?”

“Mhm.” Rhys brought my newly christened finger to his lips for a searing kiss. “With plenty of help, of course. I was nervous when you took off that maybe you were second guessing your decision, after what we’d talked about. Or maybe that this wasn’t the best night for a proposal.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened to me in there.”

“It’s okay. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”

“I felt awful watching you walk away. I didn’t know if it was me or something else. Thank you for sending Lucien to find me. For trusting that he’d know what to do. I know it’s not always easy-”

“It’s worth it, all of it.” Hands intertwined between us, Rhys’s eyes sparkled in the candlelight. “We’re getting married?”

I looked down once more at the new ring on my finger and beamed. “We’re getting married.” A fit of laughter burst out that sent Rhys grinning. “Oh my gosh, _we’re getting married!_ ”

The candles glowed. The wind sang. And Rhys and I stayed warm and together on that rooftop under the stars enjoying our new future.


	26. Beyond the Stars, an Epilogue Part 4: Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feysand + The End <3

_Two Years Later_

Winter

\-----

_Feyre: Hey._

_Rhys: Hey._

_Feyre: You wanna get married tomorrow?_

_Rhys: Darling, I thought you’d never ask._

_Feyre: <3 _

\-----

If I had been told I’d wake up the day of my wedding feeling equally forlorn and excited, I would never have believed it. My life had always seemed to be a complex swell of different emotions competing and contradicting one another in unison, so really I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Regardless, my phone beeped - or rather, Mor’s did, and not so gently either - and my eyes opened as I recognized that subtle sinking feeling I only experienced every now and then these days.

Mor rolled over, a huge grin already plastered to her face as she poked me. “Who’s getting married today?” Her touched moved to boop my nose. Anyone watching would have assumed I was a two-year-old. “You are!”

I snorted and shoved the pillow out from under me to whack her with it. “You’re ridiculous,” I said.

“Always have been. Come on!”

She bounded out of bed in a great leap, a newborn puppy ready to chase the wind. No going back now.

“I’m not even awake yet.” My protests were lost on her. “What happened to the Mor I used to know? The one who hated mornings with a passion?!”

“You’re the one who wanted to do the breakfast thing.”

I groaned. I had made that call. At the time, 6:30am hadn’t seemed so awful. At the time, I hadn’t been jet lagged and living on another continent.

Mor jittered around the room, still a little chilly from the unusual mid-winter weather SoCal had gotten this season, and pulled on a comfy assortment of sweats and socks before finally plopping down on the bed right at my feet. She extended her arms, fingers wiggling like a jazz concert about to begin.

“Let’s see ‘em, sunshine. Up, up, up!”

I sighed, more for show than anything, and grabbed hold. Mor pulled me up easily. Nothing was going to stop her today, not even my sorry ass dead weight.

“I’ll be more awake after breakfast, I promise.”

“You had better be. You’re sure you’re still up for it?”

“Yeah, I think so. It should be nice.”

The truth was, it didn’t matter if I was up for breakfast with Rhys’s dad or not. I needed to talk to him before I walked down the proverbial aisle. There was simply no other way I could do it without some one-on-one time with the man I still didn’t really know all too deeply.

Since I had proposed an early breakfast on my own with Rhys’s dad, mom had surprised me by asking Rhys if he’d like to join her for a separate get together as well. Not wanting to drag him all the way downtown to her city apartment and hassel traffic, she’d made reservations at a local cafe she’d always preferred. I’d chosen a much simpler American classic: IHOP. Also known as the International House of Pancakes, lest I forget after spending three years in the heart of central London.

Even though I had plenty of time to really primp myself up for this afternoon, I still spent a good chunk of time in front of the mirror getting ready. Rhys and I hadn’t set a specific time for our small, short ceremony figuring we could just wing it. Half the guests had stayed over at Rhys’s house anyway - Mor and Az, Cassian and Nesta - so there really wasn’t much to fuss over. Just so long as I looked halfway decent and appropriate to wolf down some scrambled eggs with bacon in front of Rhys’s dad. The man still made me nervous occasionally, so I wanted to feel as confident as possible. Especially going into the conversation I had in mind.

Hair up in an easy bun that seemed trendy with my “winter” neck scarf, I crept downstairs in a clean pair of skinny jeans and an oversize sweater I wore on the rare opportunity to dress casually at work. London had no concept of casual Fridays, so those chances were few and far between.

Rhys’s dad was sipping coffee and reading the paper on the couch. The image of him with the black and white papers spread over his lap accompanied by the soft crinkling noise when he turned the page struck as me as so typically dad, I halted on the stairs. My heart lurched as I stood there and simply watched him for a moment, taking him in. A wave of nostalgia came over that I just wasn’t prepared for.

“Feyre?”

I jumped, pulled out of my thoughts, and found Rhys standing on the other side of the banister watching me. His hair had been freshly washed and was already halfway to drying, and he had opted for pressed pants and a traditional button-down, very put together for a morning out with mom. Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling nervous.

At Rhys’s call, his dad looked up from his paper and stretched. “You kiddos up already?” Although never quite so friendly and open as my dad had been, his face was kind and warm today. And the unusual _kiddo_ remark was like an extra battering at my heart, one that I had finally learned how to welcome and cherish instead of running scared from as I would have years ago.

“Big day today,” he said coming to stand just before me on the stairs. I felt Rhys stand up a little straighter on my other side as his dad looked between us, an odd mixture of business and pleasure in his features. “You mind if I steal your girl for an hour this morning?”

“And here I thought I was the one doing the kidnapping,” I said before Rhys could answer. To my delight, his dad beamed his approval.

“I told you she was a winner,” he said, nodding at Rhys. “Shall we, Feyre?”

“Yes, sir.”

I looked at Rhys, trying my best to give him a clever look that asked when exactly his dad had told him I was “a winner” and what else he might have said, before walking out to the car. I didn’t dare risk a kiss just yet. Some wedding traditions were still sacred, even to me.

The drive was mostly small talk, with which I was completely fine. I’d much rather have some defenses in the form of food and tea in front of me before bringing up the heavier subjects. Thankfully, Rhys’s dad never ran out of things to say. A businessman to the core, he was used to keeping conversations rolling when they felt stagnant. The weather, new brakes on the car, turbulence on the plane rides, we didn’t even get to anything wedding related until the chatty waitress named Cindy had taken our drink order at the restaurant.

Rhys’s dad said nothing after Cindy left. She came back not even two minutes later with our drinks - an iced tea for me, the non-coffee drinker, and a strong black coffee for him - and still he didn’t say anything. It was his eyes that did the talking, piercing me with a hazel color nothing like the violet in Rhys’s. He must have gotten the coloring from his mom and I’d never noticed. They looked alike in almost every other way.

Before I could lose too much of my courage, I cleared my throat and found the words tumbling awkwardly out of my mouth. “Thank you for coming out with me this morning,” I said, wishing I sounded more sure of myself. It felt so important to me that I impress him, even now. “I really appreciate it.”

Rhys’s dad gave a downward smile and shrugged. “Of course. Anything for you, Feyre.”

_Anything._ Anything for me. That helped.

“I have a small confession to make.”

“Go ahead.”

“I didn’t ask you to come to breakfast entirely for kicks and giggles.”

A wry half smile appeared, another good sign. He didn’t seemed shocked at all to hear me admit the truth. “I’m neither one for kicks nor giggles, so I think you’ve chosen well.”

Unfortunately, Cindy chose that exact moment to reappear and take our food order, sort of killing my momentum. As soon as she’d left again, Rhys’s dad was back to watching me with those razor sharp eyes of his.

“I was wondering if I could ask you something kind of personal. And just so we’re clear, Rhys doesn’t know I’m doing this.”

_That_ caught him off guard. “I suppose so.” He sounded more curious than offended.

“It’s about… Rhys’s mom. His sister too, I suppose. But more so his mom.”

Now, his gaze softened and for a moment, I felt as though I were watching a man transported elsewhere in time and space. He was no longer sitting with me at an IHOP diner waiting for a fat stack of eggs and pancakes, but sitting far off somewhere else, with _someone_ else. And suddenly, I felt foolish for ever having been afraid to talk to him today. This was Rhys’s dad. And Rhys’s dad loved his son beyond anything. And he knew what it meant to lose love like that more than once in a lifetime. I had nothing to be scared of anymore.

He leaned forward, fingers curling around the coffee mug in front of him, and very intently said, “Ask away.”

The instantaneousness of his emotion, his genuine spirit threw me off. I almost wasn’t sure where to start. Luckily, I’d prepared questions ahead of time to save myself the trouble.

“What was she like?”

That seemed the easiest, safest place to start. All at once, an untempered sea of joy ruptured to life in the man’s eyes. He could have been twenty, thirty years younger just from whatever memories had struck him from my mere question.

“She was _victorious_ ,” he said. “In everything that she did. She had no fears and whatever obstacles stood in her way, she conquered them with a relentless attitude unlike anything I’d ever seen in anybody else. I used to joke with her that she should have worked for me, that my business would have flourished under a firm and determined hand like her own, but she would have nothing to do with my schemes. Too much like Rhys in that way. Off on her own track, following her own beat. At least I managed to snag Mor.”

“You didn’t mind?”

Rhys’s dad laughed, the boldest sound I’d ever heard from him. “Mind? Oh no, she was too wild and carefree for me to mind her rejections. I knew when Rhys wanted to study international law it would be the same. I tried at first to keep him closer than that, but… his sister would have been the one.”

I bristled, willing my breath to remain still. “Was she much like you?”

Pride swirled on his face. “Yes. Except that she looked just like her mom and had her adventurous spirit.”

“And now you have Rhys, and he doesn’t look much like either of them, does he?”

I wasn’t sure why I’d let the words escape. They immediately seemed like the wrong thing to say. Rhys’s dad wasn’t upset to hear them, merely curious once more, regarding me like a case study. “No,” he said. “I suppose not.”

Cindy made another one of her timely arrivals carrying hot plates of our food. I welcomed the distraction to push the scrambled heap of eggs around on my plate and pour hot syrup over the pancakes for a while before braving my next and most important question. Rhys’s dad was ready for it, waiting to tuck in until I’d asked. I took a breath.

“How did you get over losing them?”

I spilled the words out one by one, leaving no time for my brain to change course and choose something else, something safer. I wanted to bleed openly and find the solution, as I’d learned to do. To no longer run from what still ached deep in my bones in the middle of the night.

Rhys’s dad looked more than simply sorrowful. There was something else I couldn’t quite spot at first, something similar to pity, but much less judgemental. It was perhaps the purest form of empathy, of shared experience and torment, that two people might ever know. At long last, he shook his head with a tower of regret and offered simply, “I didn’t.”

It was an answer I had taught myself to prepare for, to expect even. Hearing it in reality made the blow no less worse.

“Do you miss him?” he asked me, so soft, so quiet. And I knew exactly who he meant.

“Yes. Every day. More than I thought I would by this point.”

I was no longer ashamed to say my lips quivered. Only disappointed they still did after all this time.

Rhys’s dad shook his head gruffly, but when he reached across the table and took my hand, I felt safe. “You will never stop missing him. Accept that now. Allow your heart to understand, Feyre.” A cold splash hit my plate below, sprinkling my bacon with some extra salt it didn’t need. “I have never stopped missing my wife, my _little girl_. I revisit the accident every day in some form or another. And what everyone tells you is a lie - time will not make it easier. You won’t find that the pain dulls or the grief abates. In many ways, it gets stronger.

“But what you do find instead are new ways to live and love and take those people with you. He’s not gone, Feyre. He lived and now you live, and so does Rhys. Your pain does not always have to exist to hurt you.”

I tried to speak and the words promptly choked. Still, I wasn’t afraid. “I was nervous that I wouldn’t be able to have this day without him. It didn’t matter for my sisters that he wasn’t there, but dad meant a lot more to me than he did to either of them.”

“And now?”

“And now… I’m glad that you are here. I’m glad you agreed to come, that you trust me enough with your son to send him off with me when you’ve already seen so many others leave. And I’m grateful you let Rhys go. I love him so much. So very, very much. I could not live this life without him.”

A squeeze of pressure on my hand and Rhys’s dad broke into a smile before taking his napkin and wiping at my face, exactly as a dad ought to. “There you go,” he said. “You’re already doing what I’ve told you.”

“I am?”

“Mhm. Not allowing your pain at your dad’s death to hurt you. You’re _living_. I hope you always continue to do so. Now tell me about this afternoon.”

I stuck my fork into a bite of pancakes now well soaked in syrup, finally ready to take a bite. “I’d love to.”

* * *

 

Everything went a million times faster once I’d gotten back to Rhys’s house feeling much lighter than I had before I’d left it. Rhys’s dad winked at me before disappearing upstairs to get ready, with Rhys popping out of his old basement room a moment later. He’d already gotten the tux on. I started to smile and move his way, the image of him standing so tall and lean in his wedding garb throwing all sorts of hormones out of whack, when Mor caught me and screamed about _it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!_ And rushed me promptly upstairs.

We weren’t even close to ready for a long while after that. Mom was taking care of both Daisy and Lily so that Elain and Lucien could come over early and help everyone get ready. I had no idea how my sister was going to manage the tiny hellions when little Fern came along in the fall to join his sisters in their mayhem.

Nesta joined Mor and I upstairs as soon as Elain popped over. And even though we were all here, I steadily heard the noise downstairs increase, catching my attention every now and then.

Elain squeezed my shoulders as I sat at the bathroom mirror watching Mor carefully apply my makeup. My hair had already been styled - simple braids woven together in knots at the base of my neck. “You’ll be great,” Elain said. “Don’t worry.”

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” I replied, though not without a smile.

“It’s your wedding day, silly. Of course you’re nervous. We all were for ours.”

“Even Nesta?” I arched a skeptical brow at my oldest sister who had crammed herself into the bathroom with all three of us without (much) complaint.

“Yes, yes, even me, dipshit.” Mor snorted and Nesta’s eyes slashed over to her. “What?” she demanded brutally.

Mor snickered. “I hope you call Cassian a _dipshit_ too. Especially when he’s trying to woo you with his weird, romantic bullshit.” She looked at Nesta and couldn’t hold back the laughter any longer. Nesta cracked a brief smile and the four of us lost ourselves in the fun of spending the afternoon together, just us girls.

Really, the rest of the day was rather simple. We’d all dressed ourselves up, going as all out as we pleased, which meant Rhys opted for his tux even as I wore a simple, plain dress that just reached my toes, gathered at the low open back, and walked barefoot across the grass of Rhys’s backyard to meet him. His dad was already registered from Mor and Az’s wedding, so as the winter sun beat down on us and Lily ardently chased her big sister around the yard, Rhys and I held hands and finally said _I do_. We had written down our own vows, but Rhys had asked that we save them for later this evening when he had a special surprise planned.

“You really won’t tell me?” I asked en route to the door.

“Not a chance,” he said, flicking me on the nose.

It was well into the night by that point, late enough that normally our parents would have already said their goodbyes and turned in. Both of them had stayed, as had my siblings and our chosen little family. The kids were inside fast asleep while everyone else drank champagne and wine and munched on leftover barbeque Rhys’s dad had fired up after Rhys had kissed me at our outdoor altar.

“Oooh, be safe and have so much fun and tell me _everything_.” Mor held on to me with a force to be reckoned with.

“Relax,” I said, shoving her off and then just giving in to the fierceness that was my hurricane of a best friends. “You’ll see us tomorrow.”

“I know, I know. I’m just excited to have a weekend together, all of us again, you know? It’s been so long.”

Looking around, I saw what she was talking about. Cassian and Az were each holding a glass and chatting with Rhys’s dad looking exactly as happy and chummy as they had the day they’d shown up with Rhys on my doorstep to help me move. Lucien had one arm around Elain on the bench chair, his other resting sweetly on her growing tummy while Nesta talked about her upcoming semester teaching. Even seeing mom sitting on Elain’s other side looking ready to doze off brought the reality of the moment to the forefront: this was my family. I’d chosen them every one and they’d chosen me right back.

“Yeah,” I finally said. “I do know what you mean.”

Mor hugged me again, no getting away from it, and then reached up and kissed Rhys on the cheek. “Bring her back in one piece, young man!”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “You ready, darling?”

“Absolutely.”

“Ooh- _ooh!_ ” Cassian catcalled us all the way to the door, making kissy faces at us as we went.

“Cassian!” I chided over my shoulder and had just managed to hear him toss back, “I won’t bite!” before the door clicked shut and we were on our own.

Rhys kept his secret quiet for a long time. Los Angeles was such a huge and varied city, there was no telling where we were going until we got off the freeway and I noticed him turn toward the signs for the hills.

I inclined my head at him, surprised. “Griffith Park?”

His trademark cat’s smile slid into place. It was now my smile forever more. “There’s a meteor shower tonight.”

“Really? How convenient.”

“Why do you think I suggested we wait until February 1st to get hitched, hmm?” I laughed, shaking my head in protest, but it was useless. Rhys ascended the hills up toward the observatory. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect.”

We parked and found ourselves quickly lost in a sea of star-gazers who’d had the same idea we had, except none of them were quite so fancily dressed. Rhys popped the trunk of the car, unloading a wicker basket and blankets. “You really thought of everything didn’t you?” I said impressed. Even for someone as extra as Rhys, this was pretty damn impressive.

Rhys pulled one of my oversize sweaters I hadn’t seen hiding in the trunk and offered it. I held my arms up as he slid it on me over my white dress, his face landing very close to mine when he was done. “Of course I did, darling,” he purred before kissing right below my ear. Shivers broke out over my skin. The night was cold. I somehow didn’t mind. “Feyre, _my wife_.”

“Mmm, well doesn’t that sound delicious?”

He grinned and whispered low. “Say it.”

I leaned up and kissed him, his mouth hot and welcoming against mine. “My _husband_ ,” I said. I could hear the purr in Rhys’s chest.

“Come on,” he said, and together we loaded up the blankets and food and made our way to the grassy areas to claim a spot of our own.

The meteors were slow in falling, but once they did, it was a sight to behold. For being a mid-winter night in LA where the lights were numerous and blaring, we got lucky. Everything about Rhys and I had always seemed lucky. The skies were clear and the city had dimmed somehow tonight, just enough, as if the buildings and the freeways had known we would be there to see the show. And what a show it was.

Fast they fell in quick little blurs, darting across the sky. I wondered where they all went and if they’d ever come back one day. If there would be more of them, the same, or maybe fewer. Under the blanket, Rhys and I snuggled close enjoying that we could simply be in this moment. Together. And everything felt suddenly infinite and limitless.

I was sitting there beneath the stars, but I knew it in my heart that wasn’t true. I was one of the stars, up there between them all or maybe even beyond them. I wondered if I had been there this entire time and just hadn’t known. I was there now, though, looking down on this moment - on me, on Rhys, on us - and all the things that had made my life wonderful, both good and bad. And I knew then that my soul was complete. As Rhys and I held hands and the stars blazed by, I knew he’d chosen right: the stars had listened to me all these years and tonight, my very first dream of them all had been answered.

It had been a gift, all of it.

xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be my last ACOTAR fanfic. To everyone who has followed me over the past few years, whether on Tumblr or through AO3, THANK YOU. All of the comments, kudos, messages, asks, and notes of encouragement have been a blessing. Like Feyre, I’m so grateful to have had the stars listen to some of my dreams and answer them when I needed it most. You’ve all been a part of that and I’ll never forget what your support has done for me. I wish you lovelies all the best!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. <3


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